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fantasmalresplendent · 2 years

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Left to Wonder

The triadic voices of the Chorus reverberated off the walls of Rue’s skull. They hastened from the top of the tower, a million thoughts and questions followed the echoes. What had they done? What would they do now? Was it a mistake to refuse The Chorus’s offer? Had they not condemned the leaders of the court strongly enough? Were they in danger? Had they ever been?

Rue stopped, realizing they had been walking without destination. Their feet, acting on muscle memory, had been taking them home, down the hall that led to their suite. But they didn’t want home right now. They wanted something practical, something true. Something without pretense or glamor.

They wanted Hob.

Their heart lifted at the thought, but, no. He would have received the letter by now. He would have read it, and Rue was sure he would want to respond to it. After the conversation they just had, Rue wasn’t in that state of mind. No, that conversation demanded its own space, its own time.

Something practical. Something real. They knew another place, or rather person, they could find those qualities in.

Binx? It’s Rue, I need to talk to someone. Where can I find you?

The sending spell was returned almost immediately.

At the tailor’s shop. Hope you’re okay! And if you’re not okay, that’s okay too. I mean, you know. Oh, I should mention, I’m also-

There the message ended. With a fond eye roll, Rue headed back to the stairwell. They’d find out the end of that sentence soon enough.

Dark clouds had gathered while Rue was in the tower. They frowned at the oncoming storm as they made their way to their destination. They’d planned for inclement weather, of course, but rain was not ideal for the night to come. Their mind drifted to the preparations they had made for the play, which then drifted to the one carrying out the preparations. A pit formed in their stomach at that thought. Rue frowned deeper, shaking their head to clear it as they at last reached the abandoned tailor’s shop.

“Binx,” Rue said as they opened the door, “I have to tell you- oh!”

Curse and bless Binx for being spendthrift in her sending, unable to warn Rue of a certain fey’s presence in the shop. It was only right they supposed, Rue had wanted to see Hob after all. And there he stood, looking about as shocked as they felt, leaning over a battle map across from Binx.

“Hi,” Binx gushed, a panicked look in their eyes as their gaze shifted rapidly between Rue and Hob, “Come on in, we were just discussing the plan. Do you want to hear about the plan?”

Rue closed the door behind them, took a breath, and summoned a smile of their own. “Hob,” they nodded, unable to resist searching his face for a hint of his deeper thoughts at their arrival. They hoped for a shy glance, a flustered greeting, hopefully a smile in return. But Hob did not meet their eyes at all, even as he spoke.

“Mistrex de la Rue. We were just discussing our plan, or really, it was Binx's plan, she can fill you in I’m sure. Regrettably, I must be off.”

“So soon?” Rue said, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back later.”

“No need,” Hob was donning his shako and making for the door, “I really must be going. Goblin business to attend to.”

Rue looked to Binx, perplexed. Binx made a series of expressions that conveyed neither clarity nor comfort.

“Good day,” Hob tipped the brim of his visor, and slipped past Rue out the door.

“I’m sorry!!” the words exploded out of Binx as soon as the door closed behind Hob, “I ran out of words! I tried to tell you he was here, but I didn't tell Hob you were coming on purpose because I thought, if I tell Hob that Rue’s coming, he might leave without talking to Rue, and he should definitely talk to Rue, because he’s got some stuff to say to Rue I’m sure, but then it was just a big surprise to you both, and I didn’t think-”

“Slow down,” Rue raised a hand, “What stuff?”

Binx made another series of pained expressions. “Sort of important stuff, but you should really ask him about it.”

“Did he- no, you’re right,” Rue straightened their posture, “this is becoming ridiculous. We should just talk to each other.”

“Exactly!” Binx held out their hands, “Yes, thank you, that’s what I’ve been saying.”

Rue looked at Binx. Binx looked to the door, then back to Rue. Rue looked to the door and then back to Binx. “...Now?”

“Yes, now!!”

The storm had arrived with vigor, and Rue was drenched almost as soon as they stepped out onto the grounds. They squinted through the rain, but it wasn’t hard to see the large shape of a bugbear stalking away towards the forest. Rue rushed out to follow Hob, the pouring rain a cacophony of sound around them. They called to him, having to shout over the noise.

“Hob! Hob, wait!”

But Hob kept walking, shoulders hunched, possibly in response to the weather. Yet, as they caught up to him, Rue suspected a deeper reason.

“Hob-” Rue reached for his shoulder, attempting to get his attention. But Hob must have heard them, and motioned to reject their advance. Instead of grabbing his arm as intended, Rue found themselves holding Hob by the wrist.

Caught in Rue's gentle grip, Hob finally looked up at them. His eyes were glossy with unshed tears, his expression stricken. Rue was taken aback, not expecting to see Hob so... devastated.

“Am I not granted a small shred of dignity on this day?” His words were angry, but his tone was pitiful, pleading, “Let me leave you in peace.”

“You- I only wanted to know what made you leave in such a hurry,” Rue quavered, feeling like a villain for exposing Hob so. But they had to ask. They had to know. “I think I’ve upset you and I want to know why. Clearly I’ve caused you some offense.”

“No,” Hob sniffed, steeling himself, “It is I who causes offense. Forgive me, once again, I beg of you.”

“‘Once again?’ Have you offended me once before?”

“Of course- is that not-,” Hob stammered, “I mean only to say that I am no doubt bumbling through my interaction with you, as always. I would greatly appreciate the end of my own embarrassment."

“Speak plainly, man!” Rue said, voice raised. “I feel like I can’t talk with you sometimes! Face to face, this should be easier,” Rue motioned between the two of them, “but we’re always talking around something. Never about anything! And when we are about to talk about something, you rush away. Not even my letters are granted a response. I’m tired of being left wondering, Hob!”

Hob’s face went from pained to bewildered in the span of a second, Rue catching on only another second too late. Letters. Hob didn’t know they’d written more than one! He didn’t know that Rue had been smitten from that first fateful day in the woods.

But what Hob said next left Rue just as bewildered. “You sent me a letter?”

They stared at each other for a moment in mutual confusion, the rain taking this opportunity to run into Rue’s wide-open eyes. They wiped the moisture away, cursing, “All right, enough of this.”

Rue couldn’t cast shape water, but they could do other casters one better. With a wave of their hand, Rue summoned roots and branches to grow up and around the both of them. The plants rose to form a canopy of leaves thick enough to block out most of the rain.

When Rue looked away from their work, they saw that Hob had not looked away. “You sent me multiple letters?” Hob was blushing now, “What were the contents of these letters?

“Letter. I only sent you one letter,” Rue brushed a leaf off of their dress in a casual feign, “But you don’t have it? You never received it?”

“No,” Hob looked like he wanted to press on the issue of the misspoken plural, but he let it drop for the moment. “I- when did you send it to me?”

“This morning! To your tent. Maybe you were gone-”

“I was in my tent until almost midday. I could have overlooked it.”

“I told Wuvvy to- oh,” Rue pinched the bridge of their beak between two clawed fingers with a sigh. The pit in their stomach returned. “Wuvvy.”

Already sober of countenance, Hob’s demeanor turned even more so. “Wuvvy was to deliver it.”

“Yes.”

“And Wuvvy… did not. Could she have been intercept-”

“No,” Rue shook their head, certain of this now, “no, I don’t think she ever intended to give it to you. I should have given it to you myself. No, I should’ve forgotten the letters entirely and just talked to you.”

Hob lifted a single clawed finger. “Okay, I was prepared to drop it before, but again you mention sending more than one letter. Which, to be clear, I know nothing of the contents-”

“Don’t distract me with details Hob!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Hob held up his hands, “Just feel like it’s important, that’s all.”

“Fine, fine, I wrote you a letter the day after the hunt. But I didn’t send it. You were never supposed to… What did Wuvvy tell you?” A suspicion suddenly occurred to Rue, “Did Wuvvy tell you what I wrote? Is that why the two of you dueled?”

“I didn’t know there was any letter involved at all,” Hob grumbled, “Hold on, are you asking me why I was challenged? I said so to you, in front of everyone, that I had no idea what I had done to warrant the duel. Except… except that I had upset you,” Hob deflated. “My only assumption to go on was that I had gravely offended you and Wuvvy had come to your defense, or you had sent Wuvvy-”

“I did not send Wuvvy to challenge you. You must have seen those missives, carried by birds,” Rue spat the word. “I was just as surprised to learn about it as anyone else, more surprised even. I never wanted you two to fight.”

“Then why send-”

“I didn’t. I didn’t! I didn’t send her at all, with a letter, with a challenge, with anything! I only had dismissed her, and next thing I knew, the two people I care about most were-”

A sudden change in Hob’s expression halted Rue’s thought mid-sentence. He looked taken aback by their last words, but in a flash, a more neutral expression returned.

“Hob,” the brief look had derailed them completely, “you know… you do know how I care for you, don’t you? Letters aside, I… has it not been painfully obvious?”

“I…” Hob paused for a long moment. Rue could see the wheels turning as he processed this information, “I suppose it would make sense, given your reticence to be cruel to me. To give me any time of day.”

Rue balked, “Why in the wilds would I ever want to be cruel to you?”

“In any case,” Hob was looking past Rue now, lost somewhere deep in his own mind, “you seem to desire my friendship enough to keep my company. Despite my having offended you so, despite my-”

“Knickolas,” Rue said, leveling him with a look.

Hob’s gaze snapped back to theirs with a start. “Apologies… I…” he looked stricken again. “I simply am struggling with maintaining something difficult to maintain. I’ll get better. I promise.”

“What? What are you maintaining? What are you talking about?”

“I… only…” he shook his head, “Matters not.”

Rue pointed a finger, frustrated, “No, don’t deflect, not this time. I want answers, real answers, Hob.”

A familiar stubborn look came upon Hob, having been given an order he was reticent to obey. “Perhaps you should start then. I asked moments ago but I shall ask again; what were the contents of those letters, both sent and unsent? You meant them for me, surely I have a right to know.”

Rue huffed and opened their mouth to launch into it all. To speak aloud every word, burnt, lost, and unsaid. But they made no sound. In that moment, with Hob looking them dead in the eye, fear washed over them. The same fear that had stopped them from letting Hob discover their true form in the woods. From sending the first letter. From telling Hob everything they’d thought and felt face to face.

It wasn’t all Hob’s fault, they realized now, that the two of them could never seem to just talk. It struck Rue that they themselves were quite good at dancing around certain topics. They felt the desire to retreat from true sincerity as Hob did. And surely they must have been just as coy, just as prone to leaving one to wonder. They had to be if Hob was so very unaware of their affections.

In a flash, Rue recalled the moment Hob had unpinned his medal of courage from his sash and placed it into Rue’s hand. You deserve this more than I.

But did they?

Hob softened at Rue’s silence, empathetic. “Apologies, I know these subjects are… difficult. I did not mean to be so bold.”

Rue remembered Hob in the forest, that look he gave Rue when they told him to go and rejoin the hunt. That glint in his eye that spoke of something simmering underneath the surface. Waiting to emerge.

They smiled, at both the memory, and at Hob’s retraction. “Never apologize for being bold, at least not to me.”

Hob smiled back, but there was a tightness around his eyes, ever present. “It’s you who compels me. I feel… If I may speak honestly. Though you fluster me, make me question… everything, I feel bolder around you, because of you. You inspire bravery, Rue.”

So inspire it.

Rue stepped forward then to close some of the space between them. They stopped only shy of touch. Near enough only to feel Hob’s breath on their feathers, first in a hitch, then a measured exhale. Rue searched for a sign, or a signal to withdraw, but Hob gave them none, nor did he withdraw himself.

“Then show me,” Rue pleaded rather than demanded, their eyes trailing over his lips. “What’s the bravest thing you could do, right now?”

The glint returned with a blaze to Hob’s eyes, the air charged with electricity as their gazes met. Time stretched into irresponsible lengths. Then Hob’s eyes flicked down, and slowly, in a release of warm breath, his eyes closed. Rue leaned. In tandem, their mouths brushed together, light as the beat of a butterfly's wing, then met.

It was a long embrace, as if they both wanted to give the other every chance to lean away, to retreat to safety. But neither did. Rue reached to cradle Hob’s face, to stroke a thumb along his cheek, and Hob let out a quiet gasp. He kissed them again, a hesitant hand moving to Rue’s waist, then their back. Then they were closer, so close, but oh, not at all close enough in Rue's opinion. Still, they sighed at the feeling of Hob against them, at long last.

In a moment of shared breath, still so close, Hob murmured, “Rue, I… I must tell you. I have felt for some time, since the Great Hart Hunt, that my affections for you have grown, greatly. Far greater than I have ever felt or could anticipate to feel. I confess that all that I want, all that I have wanted, is to be near you, beside you, ever since then. But I- I don’t know if I can, if you- Can I assume your… care for me is not limited to the statues of friendship? Or, perhaps, it is a purely physical-”

He stopped as, from out of nowhere, a delicate pink petal floated down in front of his vision. Hob went cross-eyed as it landed lazily on his nose. They both looked up.

Only now did Rue notice the flowers, blooming all over the inside of the canopy, in all sizes and colors. Rue hadn’t intended them to grow, but grow they did. The elegant petals floated downward, lending a heady scent to the air.

Rue looked to Hob with a sly glance, “Does that answer your question?”

“Ah…” his face was full of wonder as he looked back to Rue, “Yes… and no. We were just speaking about giving clear answers after all, and-”

“I love you, Knickolas Pnackleless Hob,” Rue smiled, “deeply. Truly.”

“Oh… oh,” the tightness around Hob’s eyes gave way to a look of true tenderness, his mouth hung open, “I…”

Rue interlocked their large paws. “Why don't we continue this conversation somewhere warmer, dryer.”

Hob swallowed, regaining his words, “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

Rue lifted Hob’s hand to kiss it. “I know. Hold on.” With a word, the both of them disappeared to a particular chamber in a particular tower. As the spell completed, the grounds were left empty, nothing lingering but the soft scent of freshly-bloomed peonies.

#ruehob #battlemaster of ceremonies #delloso de la rue #k. p. hob #dimension 20 #acofaf #d20 acofaf #fey and flowers #acofaf ep8 #happy acofaf finale eve to all who celebrate #if ruehob doesn't go canon tomorrow I'm eating my own fic

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aphelea · 10 months

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i love that i have so few fics posted that i can celebrate all of their birthdays

#i think i have like. 17 fics published? or is that number old #who knows. i mean i don’t celebrate all of their birthdays only the ones i care about #august rambles #ok the number is more like 20 i think. but close enough

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goldheartedsky · 1 year

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🎉 🥳 We made it to 100 fics, y'all!!! 🍾🎊

I really wanted to do something sweet and fun and sexy for the 100th AndyBooker fic on Ao3, so I wrote this in celebration of Booker's first hundred years of immortality. There's a little bit of drinking, a lot of banter, and a lot of spice, so please enjoy!

A Hundred Years on Ao3

#andy x booker #the old guard #the old guard fanfiction #tog fanfiction #my fic #am I responsible for over 20% of this ship? yes #am I gonna celebrate my tiny rarepair hitting 100 fics? also yes

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bluecatwriter · 10 months

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I've been rereading some of my old travel diaries from my early 20's, and one of them seriously reads like a slow-burn fanfic. I was on tour with a small indie band and there was a cute guy my age traveling with the band. And we spent two weeks "accidentally" hanging out and sitting close to each other at the merch table in smoky bars and reading Tolkien poetry to each other and taking walks at the beach and sharing food and stargazing and sleeping next to each other on living room floors and giving each other back rubs and talking late into the night gazing into each other's eyes.

We never kissed. We never even held hands. I pretended to fall asleep on his shoulder once in the car, and one day I gave him a little kiss on the cheek. And that was it. We said goodbye two weeks later and we both thought it was forever and I pined so hard that I threw up.

A month later he sent me an apologetic letter saying that he was sorry for being so presumptuous when I clearly had no romantic interest in him, but that he had to be honest that he was in love with me. And I was like, "What?! He was in love with me this whole time???"

So yeah, we're married now (celebrated ten years last autumn) but if you're ever wondering if your slow-burn fic is too slow, or that your characters are too oblivious, just remember me and my now-spouse mutually pining over each other every single second of the day for two weeks without ever saying a word to each other about how we felt. I was reading my own diary yelling, "JUST KISS HIM ALREADY!"

#random #storytime #fanfiction #writing

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sinofwriting · 7 days

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I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen

Words: 9,747 Summary: Max wasn’t too sure who the woman was that was always with Logan, but he was sure that he wanted to get to know her. Note(s): Sargeant Reader, Age Gap, Older!Reader, Logan and Oscar are both 20 during the 2023 season, not 22. The 2023 driver standings are different (I am giving Logan the season he should have had). Reader has the nickname Pan (short for momma panther). Logan is sweetheart, Max is head over heels in love. I’m gonna be honest I never thought this fic would get written or finished. I got the idea for it back in December but only started writing it on March 16th. And it would have never happened without @burningcupcakefire & @pucksandpower. Thank you both so much for all your help. (also if anyone wants to see more of Max and Pan, let me know)

Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

Max remembers the announcement of Oscar’s arrival to F1, the drama and hilarity of it. Sometimes he sees the kids name and has to stop himself from laughing. No nineteen-year-old had any business being that funny.

Max doesn’t remember much of Logan’s announcement to F1. Only that he was young as well, being the first American in forever, and Williams' quick admission that they hadn’t wanted to sign, had wanted to wait another year.

He wishes now that he had paid more attention.

There’s a woman standing in the William’s garage, on Logan’s side. She’s clearly there for him, with the similar pass that his trainer has around her neck, and the way her eyes intently follow Logan’s movements around the garage as he talks to the mechanics and engineers.

She also happens to be the most beautiful woman Max has ever seen.

—

She can’t help but clutch at Benny’s arm the whole race, terror gripping her along with pride.

Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.” Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.” He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.” “Not gonna tell me it gets easier?” He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”

She sighs, watching the screens as it shows the top three getting interviewed and in the background you can see some of the drivers getting weighed. “He’s going to be sore and in pain.” It makes something clench inside her, the knowledge that Logan would be in pain. It was part of the job, the aches and the bruises, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to know. “I’ve already got everything set up as soon as he’s back and debriefs are done.”

Her eyes catch on the screen showing where all the drivers placed and tears prick her eyes and she shakes her head. “Twelfth in his first grand prix. I can’t believe it.”

The garage is filled with chatter as the team celebrates getting their first points of the season and their rookie driver performing better than they expected. The way they don’t even try to whisper it makes her jaw twitch. She was grateful that Williams was giving Logan his dream, but she didn’t like how they were going about it. Quickly and publicly stating that they didn’t want to sign Logan yet, wanted to wait a year. And now this.

A light nudge to her ribs makes her unclench her jaw and she gives Benny a grateful smile.

Both of their attention is quickly drawn however to the two Williams drivers entering the garage, the space filling with cheers.

She smiles as Logan grins at the team, basking in the smiles they have on their faces for him and Alex, the pats on the back he’s getting. The grin turns to a beam when he spots Benny and her and he quickly bounces over to them.

A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs. She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.

She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.” He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back. “You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head. “Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go. She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.” He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.

—

Y/N Sargeant will never forget the first time she held her son, only then at nine years old, he had been her cousin.

Logan was small, wrinkly, pink skin, and full of small cries. She could remember staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand how he could be what her baby dolls were made to be like. She remembers her mama having her sit on the couch after asking her if she wanted to hold him and how she had quickly nodded, hoping that maybe holding him would somehow make him look better.

She remembers the sudden nerves that built in her stomach as her mama started to hand him to her. Remembers being scared that she would drop him, remembers thinking how stupid it would be if he was still weird to look at like this.

And she remembers finally holding that and it disappearing. His small cries, no more, his wriggling calmed down, and his wrinkles no longer looked weird but cute. She remembers holding him for the first time and feeling unconditional love for the first time in her life.

—

She’s twelve when she realizes that her uncle and aunt don’t like Logan much. It didn’t make sense to her then, still doesn’t know. Because they liked Dalton just fine, but not Logan.

She remembers asking her dad about it. Asking him why they didn’t love Logan, but loved Dalton and worse, she remembers the pained look in his eyes as he realizes that his child picked up on what he and his wife had as well.

It’s the first hard adult conversation she has with her parents and it’s fitting that it’s about Logan, as they sit her down and talk to her about how not all parents love their kids, and how sometimes that includes them only loving one child and not the other.

—

She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.

It’s her fourteenth birthday and she’s got the four-year-old in her lap as she sits in a rocking chair, reading her English essay aloud for him. Logan’s eyes are closed, head resting on her chest, over her heart, and his little fingers of his one hand are curled in her shirt right by his head.

She wants to sit there forever, reading to him as she rocks back and forth. But she wants another slice of cake before Martha puts it away and Logan needs to sleep in his bed where he can stretch out fully and drool on his pillowcases and not her shirt that Martha will surely tut over but then smile fondly when she sees Logan doing it all over again.

Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.” He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly. “You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.” He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.” “Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.” Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”

—

She’s only been eighteen for ten hours when she asks her father for the near impossible.

“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.” He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock. “He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.” “Madelyn and Daniel?” She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.” One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.

“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.” Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.” “Thank you.”

—

Max watches the free practice session coverage intently as they focus on the Williams garage, nose wrinkling when they focus on Logan’s trainer, Benny and then James Vowles. Could it really be possible that they never once caught a shot of her? He starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's gonna have to go on Twitter when the camera moves and suddenly she’s there and he’s scrambling for the tv remote, pressing the pause button just before the camera switches to an overhead shot of the Bahrain track.

His heart skips a beat as he gets his first good luck at her. Her pretty eyes and smile. His eyes then travel down, wanting to know her name and his heart drops.

Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.

Fuck.

—

“Momma Panther!” Oscar greets to the confusion of other drivers as Logan and a woman enter the room.

Lando’s eyebrows are raised as he watches Oscar stand. Watching as his teammate claps Logan on the back, before giving him an actual hug. Before he then hugs the woman as well, whispering something to her that makes her laugh.

Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.” “Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table. “Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.” She makes a humming noise. “C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”

Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.” Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle. He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.” “Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.” He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”

Lando coughs, water going down the wrong pipe. Fernando’s eyes are wide as he looks at her. Charles, George, and Alex are all nodding. Max has a weird expression on his face and Carlos looks dumbfounded.

“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?” Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?” She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.” Logan both blushes and preens at the same time. Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.

“Please, sit.” George says after a moment. “We haven’t ordered yet.”

The seasoned drivers and her watch amused as both Oscar and Logan usher her to sit first. Oscar easily then lets Logan sit next before sitting beside the American. The two of them sharing a grin after.

It makes her shake her head as she turns her attention to the menu, tuning out the sound of conversation picking back up.

The gentle sound of a throat clearing makes her glance to her left.

The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?” She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.” He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.” She laughs, “good gin and tonic?” He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.” She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”

Her eyes drift back to the menu, not even wincing at the prices next to the dishes. This was nearly cheap compared to where she had been forced to eat growing up.

“Momma, can we,” “Yes.” She answers before Logan finishes, already knowing what he’s asking. “Also you two, no hard liquor. We have plans tomorrow.” She continues, still looking at the menu.

They wouldn’t get drunk from a few drinks, but she had a feeling that Lando would try to instigate something again with Oscar, making the poor kid so drunk he could barely walk, again. And she didn’t mind people thinking that she was overbearing with Logan and even Oscar. The boys knew that if they really wanted to do something they could, even if she said otherwise. It was one of the nice things about being an adult.

Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.” Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.” “We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”

It’s not until after the server leaves, all of their orders taken, that conversation starts again.

“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts. “Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused. “Ah.” “Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.” She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases. The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.” “Thank you.”

“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?” She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.” Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.” “Your work allows you to do that?” Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.” “You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.” “I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”

“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious. “No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.” “Manager?” “God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.” “Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.” “Of course.” “Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.” “Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?” “Done.”

—

Max watches from the corner of his eyes as she takes her first sip of her gin and tonic. Her brows raise a bit when the drink hits her tongue and he has to force his eyes up, to not focus in on her lips, to think about them and what they’d feel like on, he shakes his head. Forcing the thoughts, the ideas away.

“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him. He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?” “It’s nice.” She smiles. Relief fills him. “Good.”

He continues to look at her, wanting to tear his eyes away but being unable to. She was simply lovely. And getting this closer look at her, he can’t believe that she’s a mother, or at least a mother to a twenty-year-old. It didn’t seem possible. She looked barely older than him. Not at least thirty-five. She was probably more like Fernando’s age as well and he glances at the fellow two world champion, more disbelief filling him. Because how could the two be close in age at all?

—

Logan sighs as he collapses face first onto Oscar’s bed. Laying there for a solid minute before groaning and turning his head.

“Dinner was nice.” Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him. “You seemed a bit more relaxed.” “No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.” Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.

“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.” Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?” He shrugs as best as he can. “I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.” “You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs. Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.” “What happened?” “She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.” Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.” The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies. “What?” “I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.” “Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar. “I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.” Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?” Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?” “The one that gave Fred shit.” “I thought she died?” The two look at each other, both baffled.

Logan thinks again of the journalist he’s seen around Fernando and the one that all of the Prema drivers, former and at the time current, had avoided or given shit statements too. They did look a bit different now that he really thought about it. Fernando’s journalist slash girlfriend didn’t have a fucking complex.

“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?” “Mate, you didn’t hear about that?” “No!” “She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.” “How do I not remember this?” Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”

It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,” “No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.” “Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.

“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.” Logan groans, “Os, no.” “Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.” “Oscar, please, it’s my mom.” “She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush. He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.” “Lando was looking.” Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.” He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.” “He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns. “I saw that too.” “But he also got all blushy when they talked.”

“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?” Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.” “Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”

—

“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?” “I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.” Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.” “We all want to age like her.” George agrees. “What are you saying?” Fernando frowns. A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.” Fernando frowns, “Lines?” Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank. Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.” The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.

—

Her breath is caught in her throat, eyes wide as she watches the screen. Her heart feels like it is beating in double time. She wants to look away, doesn’t want to watch in case something horrible happens, but she can’t. Because Logan just overtook both Magnussen and Ocon in the same lap. Logan is in 9th. Logan is in a point scoring position with only five laps of the race left. Logan might score his first formula 1 points at his home race, at his actual home race, at his first ever home race.

Her hands are shaking, fingers locked together as she presses them against her mouth, trying to breathe, praying that Logan won’t fall back out of the points.

She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.” “Fuck.” “Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,” “He’s gonna do it.”

And sure enough he does it. Logan holds his place in front of Pierre and finishes in 8th.

“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her. “He did it! He did it!” She cheers. The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.

“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.” “Got it. Where’s Alex?” She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.” Both of her hands fly up to her mouth. “Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.” She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control. “What? What do you mean?” “You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.” “Holy fuck.” The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes. “You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.” She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.” “Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”

His mechanics, Benny and her, quickly go over to where the cars are parking, watching as Logan slots it into place. He’s a little shaky as he gets out of the car and he’s about to dart towards them but someone from the FIA, is ushering him to the scale.

His reluctance is clear even with his helmet on, but he goes. Letting them take his weight and as soon as it’s written down, he’s stepping off and away, fumbling with his gloves and then his helmet.

There’s an awed grin on his face, tears in his eyes, and seeing it makes the tears that have built in her own fall.

His gloves and helmet tumble to the ground as his mechanics and Benny surround him, celebrating his points.

Logan laughs when they finally let them go and his eyes light up when he sees her and he darts to her and she easily welcomes him into her arms.

“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.” “I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried. “You did it.”

—

“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.” She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?” He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.” “He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her. His smile widens as he takes the seat. “I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear. “I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?” She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.” “Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.” She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”

—

“Did I actually score points yesterday?” “You did.” “Sweet.” “Very. How’s the head?” Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.” She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.” “Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it. She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.” “True.”

He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.” “I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.” “Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.” “I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.” “Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.

“So, how was your night?” “It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.” His brows press together. “Max?” “Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”

“You went on a date?” Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.” “You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.” “I go on dates.” “Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.” She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists. “Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?” “Yes.” “Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?” Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,” Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?” “Oh.” Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.” “I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.

—

“Logan!” He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces. “Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?” He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press. “But how are you feeling about it?” Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.” He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.” Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.” “P10 and P9.” He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.” Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.” “Not yours?” He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.” Logan couldn’t really deny that.

“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?” Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.” “Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.” “And if I go into the wall?” Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”

—

“How are you doing that in the turns?” Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.” “Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.” Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”

—

Max had thought about her in his apartment a lot, an embarrassing amount. He had also pictured it very differently. A nice dinner, wine, even though a majority of it made his nose wrinkle, perhaps some kissing on his couch as a movie plays that they both don’t care about.

He hadn’t expected lunch, with juice that he’s trying to figure out how he’s never had it when he’s lived in Monaco for so many years, and a somewhat serious conversation, though maybe he has been expecting that one or rather anticipating it.

“I like you, Max.” He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him. “And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his. “So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say. “I’m a mom.” He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.” “Logan is important to me.” Oh, god, did Logan not like him? “The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.” “Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”

“Did you think that I didn’t know that?” She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.” “I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?” Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.” He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.

“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.” “His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right. “His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?” “No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.” She stares at him, lips pressed together. He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.” She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?” “The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears. “I am his mother, just adopted.” “Not that either of you see it that way.” “No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.

“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.” “Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?” She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.” “How old are you?” “I’m twenty-nine.” He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.” “Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.” “How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.

—

“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch. “Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun. Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.

She hated that her body didn’t bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadn’t actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.

He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach. “What?” “How was your date last night?” Her smile widens. “It was good.” “Yeah?” She nods. “Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?” “No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.” “About what?” “Breakfast first.”

“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well. She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.” “What about Max?” She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.” “You know, I’m okay with it.” “I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.” Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”

He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like she’s the sun, he makes her happy and that’s enough to put him in Logan’s good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little he’s seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasn’t even like she wasn’t happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if it’s just for a second to say a quick hi.

“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.” Logan flushes at the words. “He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age. He flushes even more. “Really?” “Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.” “I am an adult.” “You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.” He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

—

She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.” “Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?” She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?” “Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?” “First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.

Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.

The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder. “Am I late?” “Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen. “Can I,” She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.” “Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.” “Hi, Logan.”

Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her. “Logan and you are both going to get on too well.” “Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye. “You both don’t like when I lift anything.” “What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back. Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.

—

Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.

“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.” “One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.” “See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head. “I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.” Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.” He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.” “Are you sure?” Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”

“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”

—

“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage. The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at. “Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.” “Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely. “Please.” She gestures.

Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?” The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.” “Thank you.”

He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.

Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.

“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member. “Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?” He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.” “And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases. “No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.” “I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.” “Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.” “Oh?” Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”

—

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room. “Hi, schat.” “Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats. His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.

She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.

“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.” “Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask. “He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.” Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?” She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.” “Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?” “Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.” “Anything I can help with?” She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops. “Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.” “Of course. What’s going on?”

Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?” His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.” “The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.” “They have to be not performing well.” “They’re a rookie in a back marker team.” “They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about. “They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.” His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?” “Nine.” “I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.” She shakes her head. “Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?” She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.” “I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.” She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.

“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his. “The driver’s Logan.” “What?” “Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.” Max stares at her. “How?” “I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.” “He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.” “I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.” “It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

—

“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it. “Why’s that, honey?” He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team. “I guess you are a bit spoiled.” He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle. “That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.” He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more. “I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.” She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.” “It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends. “Very true.”

He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder. “How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner. She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.” He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?” “I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.” “I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.

—

“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside. “I know.” “Logan still wanting to do his new routine.” She nods, lips pursed. He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.

Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.

“Are him and Oscar still joining us?” She throws him a look. “Us?” “You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that. “Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.” “Will Logan be joining us for Florida?” “Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.” Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,” “You go to Milton for a day after.” He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.” “Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.” “Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.

It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.

“Max.” “Yes?” “Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend. He freezes. “Max.” “I knew I forgot something.”

@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #I ❤️ MILFS verse #I was on something when I came up with this idea and the name of this fic

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salaciousdoll · 9 months

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· · The Rich Farmer's Daughter Turned Town's Slut · ·

From City Girl to Farmer’s daughter, oh how will you ever survive on the countryside? The answer is simple: fucking.

･˳ . ⋆ Reporting Live with Eren Yeager, Zeke Yeager, Yelena, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirtstein, Connie Springer, Oyankopon, Sasha Braus, Mikasa Ackerman,Annie Leonhart, Miche(Mike)Zacharias, Erwin Smith,Nile Dok, Historia Reiss, Ymir, Kenny Ackerman, Levi Ackerman, Porco Galliard, Reiner Braun, Hange Zoe, Pieck Finger, Eren Kruger, Keith Shadis, Theo Magath x chubby!Bimbo!Fem! reader ･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings : First part is in fic format, second part is in Drabble/headcannons format, Confident chubby girl, Smut, threesomes, foursomes, fivesomes, group sex, wlw, reader is bisexual, Sasha x Mikasa is shown a little bit( no I don’t ship, if you do this is the place for you), dildo usage( double ended dildos too), dacryphillia, heavy Bimbo activities implied here, very self indulgent but anyone can read, outfits are describe for a reason here( only because I like Bimbo farmers daughter aesthetic), chubby!reader, rich black farmers and daughter, dirty talk, cock warming on Erwin’s part, big exhibition here, Kenny is the bad guy who wants your father’s crops, could be considered dubcon on his part, reader is very dumb, fucked dumb too, implied protected/unprotected sex, this is fictional so none of that sick shit applies here but please do not go around doing this without protection( wrap up), reader is in her early 20s( 21-24), age gaps all throughout this story( some big, some not), dominant characters( Mikasa, Annie, Levi, Erwin, miche, Keith, Kruger, etc.), pet names ( bunny, sl*t, wh0re, pretty girl, town’s sl*t, princess, doll, doll face, butterfly, sweat pea, etc.) body fluids( squirting, cumming, spit swapping), bondage( handcuffs/ swimsuit used as handcuffs), use of strap on, oral receiving and giving, descriptions of body hair, pussy/dick visuals, tattooed eren!, reader could be implied to be a nympho here, degradtation/ praise, breeding kink, grisha lurking for him and Carla. Basically you fuck everyone damn!, have fun and if im missing something let me know.

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Word Count : 14.4k, longest fic I’ve ever written

18+, Minors do not interact

PSA from me : I wanted to write this to celebrate me hitting 4K followers, so I hope you all enjoy. Thank you all for 4K followers <333 And for the love of anything, please do not do none of this stuff with strangers like the reader did in this fic, if you happen to, wrap it up!!

Also credit to @bimbohub for the farmer’s daughter inspiration, so sorry I didn’t tag you when I publish it, mainly because I forgot but yes I want to thank you for making that fic and giving me inspiration for it<33

Jujutsu Kaisen Version Tokyo Revengers Version

You remember the time you first learned about your move to the town you wanted no relation to ever since your visit when you were 8 years old.

Summer days were upon you as you came home from a long year of college. You were only in college because your parents forced you to go, otherwise you would’ve just set up a camera in your room and gave older men shows in order to get money. Being in your early twenties is a curse because now you had to actually do adult things and adulting wasn’t for you at all.

In college, you didn’t understand anything about what you learned, especially with the business major you’re forced to take up. Bad on your parents part because you didn’t even know what a mortgage is and how it’s gonna benefit you. You didn’t know or care about things like that, but you passed— only because you convinced the nerdy boy next to you to give you the answers to every test you took and every project you needed to complete. The speeches you had to give in front of the class were all of his words and he stood there smiling because the pretty girl finally gave him the attention he wanted. And you did. You actually found him useful and pretty, he just needed to fix up his looks and that was the deal you proposed to him and he took it with no problem. You even added that he was gonna finally feel and taste how bubble gum tastes if you passed.

So now you were back home and staring up at your father and mother who had the biggest smiles on their face. The next words that fell out of their mouths after congratulating you for even finishing your second year of college were horrifying. “ We’re going down to Napeville, your grandfather has now retired his position as a farm owner and your father wanted to take control of it since he was trained his entire childhood.” Your mother finished her statement and your gum popped on your face as you stared at her with wide eyes.

You stare without blinking as your dad grabbed your suitcases on the side of you bringing them into the house, “ Why?! Can’t you just go down there on your own pops’, gramps only wanted you to go down there right?!…Wait are we moving down the-” your father came back out again to grab your bag you had in the trunk of your car— afterwards stopping in front of you when he retrieved the bag from the car. “ Yes, my little pumpkin, we’re moving down there. Aren’t you glad to go back there? I’ll even teach you all about farming if you want.”, Your father said as he smiled at you. You in fact did not want any of that shit. You only remembered the ugly house and barn your grandparents had you and your parents staying in. Being 8 years old, you remembered the faces of the people down there and let’s just say you aren’t gonna find love down there if they all looked and act the way they did when you were 8. Farming life was boring compared to what you were planning to do with your friends this summer. They were not gonna ruin this for you so you proposed a deal with them, hoping they’ll listen.

“ Hmm, what if I just go down there in the summer and come back up here to go back to school and you, my dear pops’ can buy me an apartment! The smartest idea I’ve ever came up with right?!!”, You say, with your arms wrapped around the neck of your dad hugging him from the side. Your mother wanted so badly to facepalm because that was a stupid idea, but she couldn’t say because you are her daughter and you are very sensitive.

Your father removed your arms off his neck and gave you his stern look, “ Enough, { reader}! You know better than to argue with us and besides you don’t even have a good paying job to afford an apartment months rent, especially for the apartment you are tryna’ get for yourself.” You pucker your lips out while huffing, “ Okay okay, I’ll get another one.” Your father shook his head and went inside the now almost empty house.

You stopped and looked around to see the way your house looked and gasped loudly as your parents continued what they are doing, “ Ma’, where’s our stuff, did you have an yard sale without me knowing, why didn’t you tell me because I wanted to keep that love seat we had and put it in my room.”

Your mother sighed loudly before turning to you, “ {reader}, honey, if we just said that we’re moving, what does that mean to you? What do most people do when they move?” She was already tired of packing up most of her and your equipment while you were off at college doing God knows what. You didn’t really check in with them like you used to do in your first year.

You almost narrowed your eyes at her, but decided not to do it since you didn’t feel like getting yelled at for looking at her like that. Answering whilst twirling the string of chewed up gum around your index finger, “ Um, we move. I don’t know ma’, it’s too much to think about really. Anyways, since I clearly have no choice but to obey you two, I’m gonna hang out with my friends for the last time.”

Your mother rolled her eyes as she put the tape on the last box you all had before you tidy up the move from this house to your farming house, “ be back before 12, you may be grown, but you’re still my child living under my rules.” You nodded your head and bit your tongue to stop you from saying something or rolling your eyes.

You were excited to see your bitches again but before you were off, you took out your phone and texted your friends that you wanted to roller skate like the old times. You put your phone away without their answers to your text and walked to where your mother just walked to, “ Ma’, which box are my baby pink and blue roller skates in? Need them for my girly time today.” Your mother walked to a box and kicked it towards you prior to walking off to finish what she was doing.

You opened the box, thanking the heavens that she didn’t box them up with that ugly tape. “ Aww I missed you babies so much, I bet you kissed your mommy just as much.” Your father wanted to really question if you got this personality from your moms side of the family so he asked, “ She got that shit from your side not mine, baby.”

You paid no mind to what the two of them were whispering about as you grabbed your roller skates in your baby pink manicured hands. Hurrying out the house before you got called back in to pack up something they missed, you walked down your stairs to your car. You honestly should’ve taken the hint that you all were moving when you saw the moving truck on the side of your parents car in the garage way. You smiled as you walked to your baby pink and white G-Wagon, “ I’ll make my last night worth it for sure.” You talked to yourself a lot since you were an only child and found a friend in yourself before you found friends. You looked down at your outfit and smiled, your tits looked yummy and your thighs did too.

The memory was four weeks ago and you were now driving your car in silence while following your mom and dad leads to the Legendary farm house. You were leaving so much behind. Your bed, your friends, college associates, your favorite nerd, now who’s gonna help you pass your classes. You huffed to yourself, still following after your parents to the next town you were going to have to adjust to. You were going to miss the stores you got to shop at, the malls were your favorite and least favorite because it was a hit or miss with the brookefield mall. Being the size you were was not a guarantee that you were going to find something in the mall for you, so when you found that one store that sold cute clothes in your size, you had no choice but to max out with your pops’ black card. You were also glad for the mall and of course the internet because you got to shop for new clothes prior to coming to this small town.

You were going to miss the boys and girls in that city. You were gonna miss Hitch and Boris, your main two toys you like to play with. Both were hot and were everything you needed to get by. The city was full of whores and now you gotta move to the country where they are so holy and thou there. Ewww, you're gonna hate it there.

By the time you all arrived at the house you were blown out of your mind when you looked up at the farm house. It was incomparable to the farmhouse you knew from your childhood. This town was so different from how it used to be, it used to be quiet and old looking now it looks a little loud and modern, you were so stuck because you thought of the farmhouse that looked like a cottage house with a big barn behind it like it used to look, now it looks too luxurious— to your liking. The house had big glass windows with a black wooden roof and a big riva double eyebrow 4-lite steel Iron, glass door to greet you. Honestly, the gate when you first entered gave it away that this was going to be different, but you didn’t even think about it because you’re too busy listening to your favorite playlist right now in the act of sucking on your blue cotton candy sucker.

The gate was long and you bet it was even longer than you actually think, your grandpa was full of surprises. The ride to the house was even longer. Nothing but acres of grass mountains and grasslands plus a few animals standing there greeted you as you drove to the house. You were so glad because your hands hurt from driving all night and the sight of sheep somehow made you brighter than before. Once you parked the car on the pavement of the garage behins the moving truck, you got out and looked at it stomping your red and white gingham platform heels on the ground at the sandy dirt on your tires, “ fucking dirt roads, hate them so much.” Your parents were already hugging your cousin while you were grumbling about your tire and car having dirt on it. You decided to wear red and white today to match the cherry red nails with cherry charms on them. You also wanted to try to fit into the countryside by wearing this, after all, you were now a farmer’s daughter.

Your cousin's smile brightens once she sees you come to her with your arms out, “ Bubbles!” You screamed out as you hugged her and she screamed your nickname right after, and the country accent was heard loud and clear. You figured that she must’ve been lonely as hell here because this place was huge and it looks like she’s the only one here.

“ If you’re looking for grandpa, he’s at his house around the corner from here.”, Your cousin said as she brought you inside the house. It was so neutral and blended inside compared to the outside. You almost wanted to puke from the smell of discoloration this house reeks of. So plain and boring.

“ pops’, are we going to go see him later or something?”, you yelled throughout the house since you were walking up the stairs. You heard an answer but didn’t bother to actually listen because your cousin was pulling you to your room she set for you. It was a room you never would have even step foot into a few weeks ago but now you had no choice, at least the bed was big just like your bed at home. Home. You missed it already.

Your cousin then gave you a cola she got out of the little fridge you guessed she stocked in your room, “ How thoughtful of you, { cousin’s name}. Seems like you didn’t change at all.” Your cousin smiled at your comment before taking your hand to go back down stairs to the movie truck, “ And you did. Not in a bad way, sugs. Just didn’t expect you to be like dis’ gotta say you look so gorgeous with that outfit and hairstyle but that’s not what we wear out chea’. Anyways I’ve called my friends and the people your father and I know over here before y’all arrived. You’re gonna love them. They all offered to help with these heavy ol’ boxes here.”

You furrowed your eyes because exactly how many of them are going to come. You start guessing in your head and thought your brain felt like it was combusting. Too much thinking again, so you just smiled. You started to stare off into space until your cousin snapped her fingers in front of your face, “ Hey hey, we gotta get some of these boxes out of chea’, we’re having tons of fun later, silly so let’s get this started now. It’s about 11 am right now, we all should be able to finish by 9, perfect time too.”

You stared at her like she was the sheep in the backyard before grabbing the lightest box, carrying it to the entrance while she carried two boxes, “ What’s happening at 9?”

Your cousin was about to say something when a group of men and women were walking towards you all. You were so confused on who they were because your family skin didn’t look like any of them, yet they’re here smiling at your cousin like they’re family. As you were standing there in a daze— occasionally sucking on your cherry sucker with glossy strawberry lip gloss wrapped around the sucker and the half of the stick.

You didn’t even notice that they got closer and were all standing before you staring at you in awe while you looked up at the sky, stuck like a robot. You blinked when you heard the whispers and gasp with a puzzled look on your face, “ Oh oh, hi hi, I spaced out and wasn’t paying attention to you all. My name is { your name}, nice to meet you all.” You flashed a smile and Armin almost fell for you right there. They all could tell you were a city girl and the accent proved it. They would also know because they’re all from the city too, not yours though.

Eren eyed you up and down with a toothpick hanging out his mouth. He had to get you under him because there was no way you were taking by the way you were dressing. You had on a red and white gingham top that tied in the front pushing up your boobs even more with your pudgy stomach showing— slightly protruding over your v waist, blue Jean short shorts that almost showed your ass if you bent down. Your face was so gorgeous, chubby cheeks when you smile and pretty lips to top it off, he couldn’t wait to know more about you. You were the perfect girl they all were looking for, the excitement and for some, the rush— just wait until the older men and women of the group caught sight of you. Right now it was just him, Armin, Jean, Reiner, Mikasa, Annie, Floch, Pieck, Colt , Connie, Sasha, Porco, Historia, and Ymir .

They all introduced themselves to you and your legs were almost shaking from their voices, especially the women. Eyeing each of them as they were now headed to the truck. You saw things you liked about them, for now. Eren has arm tattoos that made him even more attractive and long hair that you wanted to run your fingers through, Armin looks like the nerd you had back home just more handsome with his lil cowboy boots on, Mikasa had a red scarf wrapped around her neck with overalls on. She looked so cute. Annie had on pants that showed off her thighs really well and eyes that sealed you in, Sasha was obviously a foodie because she’s been smacking on another bag of fruit snacks since they’ve walked up. She was a beauty. A real one.

Ymir and Historia were attached each other with matching colors on, which made them look adorable. One had on jeans and a shirt with combat boots while the other one had her hair down in a middle part with a cute overall dress and tank top under it. Their boots even matched. Yeah they were indeed a couple, but you still had thoughts.

Flock’s hair was a little disturbing but his eyes were beautiful; he has potential. Now Reiner was big and beefy with a cowboy hat planted on top of his head and you were getting more attracted to him when he turned around to go inside the house— his chest was the first thing you saw. May those two buttons never come back together with their little holes because whew does he look so good! Jean was someone you never thought you would keep your eyes on consistently. You liked that he was taller than everyone here and he carried himself like he’s a leader, you love a man who owns the power of authority. You don’t know why, you just do.

Porco was good looking as well and you could tell he was hard to everyone else but gentle to people he liked. A beautiful boy indeed. Colt was shy but talkative to his peers he’s been around, he was a cutie. Now pieck was someone you wanted first, she’s so pretty and mesmerizing. So beautiful that you didn’t even realize that she was in front of you bending down to pick up the box you set down in front of you. You watched her get up and throw a little smile your way, “ You can’t be spacing out like this a lot, pretty girl. Don’t want you to get hurt in the future. So, can you help me carry this last box inside, it’s in the truck.” You laughed before walking ahead of her to the truck whilst she watched your ass jiggle as you walked in front of her. You were definitely gonna be the new talk around town now.

Indeed you were by 9 pm, you were done with everything— unpacking, showing you around your new home led by your cousin as the rest stayed just to talk more with you. Afterwards , they all asked to hang out with you at the bar a few minutes away from where you stay and so you did go. Greatest mistake on your part because from there on out, you were the talk of the town.

✧˖° Eren Yeager + Zeke Yeager, Yelena with grisha lurking + in Eren’s living room

The first time you met Zeke and Yelena was at Pipsy’s Bar— the one you went to when you first moved here. You didn’t really talk with either of them because you stayed close to your cousin and Eren’s crew. However, just because you didn’t talk with them doesn’t mean you weren’t the topic of the conversation they had at their own table.

Just as Zeke asked Yelena to look into who you were, his widened at you getting body shots on the pool table by his little brother. The way your body shook underneath Eren’s as he licked down your boobs to your stomach made his dick hard and yelena wet. They both wanted you and had to get a chance to talk to you one way or another

Today was their lucky day, especially Yelena’s because she was supposed to be somewhere else today, but Zeke asked to hang out at his house. They were on the couch and their hormones heightened as you walked through the door of their farmhouse with your baby-pink polka dot strapless tube top with a white shirt skirt on. Your heels compliment your outfit and legs so well. Yeah, today was gonna be a good day today

Friday afternoon was something you wanted for a long time. Your mini skirt was bunched up your stomach, panties long gone. With the twist of your dark nipples in between Eren’s fingers, he moved inside of your pussy with desperation of your hot and slippery pussy. He was so breathy underneath you. His chest glistened as he pant out your name in a hush tone . You on the other hand was too busy trying to please Zeke with your mouth around his coke can thick tip. Zeke groaned when you locked your jaw around his pink tip, “ Stop - uh- stop fucking looking at me with those doll like eyes, Angel. Makes me wanna’ take you away from everyone and grow my own farm filled with as many animals as you want and during that time our babies will walk around with their shoes off exploring our farm.”

Eren grunted out as you clenched around his heavy cock, “ Fuck no! She’s mine, Zeke. Get your own slut. Yelena’s, umph shit! She’s right there.” Eren leaned forward to take your nipples into his mouth, needing to shut his own ass up before he ruined this moment by arguing with his pinhead ass brother. Yelena was too busy fingering herself to her tongue exploring your ass cheeks— all the way down to your convulsing asshole. It looked proper and good to not put her tongue inside. In the process of eating your ass, her large hands were spreading you open, so Eren’s big balls and her tongue can now move freely.

Zeke put his hands on your chubby cheek with a low smirk on his face, his glasses long gone off his face letting you see what exactly his eyes are saying when they look at you. Your mouth was getting tired of hollowing around Zeke’s tip and at the same time your body shook against Eren’s body and Yelena’s mouth. You were about to lift your mouth off of the older brother’s cock to moan, but your moans were soon dancing along Zeke’s thick dick. His tip hit the back of your throat, making diamond tears fill up your eyes, they eventually traveled down your eyes causing your mascara to drip down your face. Zeke cooed at you with a little grunt and hum— moving inside of you with a sharp snap of his hips, “ Ah Yes, the face of a whore. The face I love seeing on many. Ughh! So fucking pretty taking all three of us at the same time.”

Eren hissed when you squeezed around his dick causing him to almost knock his knees together out of pleasure. He reached to grab your plushy love handles, holding them in his rough hand, “ Fuck, baby! Fuck me back like you’re doing.” And then he massages your love handles in between his long fingers that had cold rings on them. “ Thought I didn’t feel the little roll of your hips and thick thighs clamping around my hips. Think again. Now give me this pussy I’ve longed for. Fuck~”, Eren said as his rings cooled down your sweaty and hot love handles.

Their dirty talking was getting to you so bad. Yelena was now standing up after detaching her lips from your puckering hole with just a long string of saliva— she was behind you with a finger probing your ass and sloppy kisses on your back, “ Gonna’ let me use this ass of your sweetheart… nah, I think I might just open you up for the others, my debt to them.” You couldn’t even focus on her sultry voice uttering those foreshadow ass words because your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, ears popping and body shaking from their overstimulation on all three of your holes. Zeke groaned and came into your mouth at the same time as Eren cumming inside the condom— breaking it in the process. Some of his cum leaked into your pussy and you couldn’t do anything but squirm on him and Grind on Yelena’s finger. You swallowed Zeke’s nut with a few coughs prior to wiping off your mouth and chin.

Eren was still snapping his hips into you slowly just when his pretty emerald, green eyes fell upon you— he was truly enticed by you. Meanwhile, your head was thrown back on Yelena’s chest allowing you to moan out loud— nothing but pleasure coming out your mouth. “ Ahhh~ please, please. It feels so good, rennie, Zekey, lena’. Feels s’good. Mmm .” Your voice was so loud after popping Zeke’s semi-limp dick out of your mouth that Grisha, who stood on the second floor banister staring intensely at the three of you with lust filled eyes, heard everything from the fucking start. He wanted you, now. You were exquisite in his eyes, far too exquisite to make him of all people interested, dangerous even. He so wanted to jerk off, but he’ll just replay the ring camera set up in his living room over, maybe he and Carla could have alone time with you, she’s been asking for a threesome for a while. His sons were so dumb to not even know he was home or maybe they didn’t care. Grisha walked off humming to himself, he’ll let his fellow friends and wife know about you.

✧˖° Armin, Jean, and Connie + back of Jean’s pickup truck

Word got around the small town faster than the plague. Whispers were heard here and there and you had no clue it was all about sweet little you. You were too busy sucking on the pink lollipop that was in your mouth while watching the sheep’s make noise and walk around your big spacious backyard, the only thing that’s separating you from them is the wooden field gate. You took in the fresh air while smiling to yourself. This was your ‘you’ time. Nothing could interrupt this.

Except for a laugh Connie bucked out— walking into the backyard as your parents were yelling out that they’re leaving to visit your grandpa, whom you visited last week with sore legs, thanks to those three. How humiliating they left you. Your view of the green grassland was invaded by Jean Kirtstein with his hands on his hips.

Armin walked to your little lake in the yard petting and talking to the animals having their daily snack on the grass. As for Connie he was too busy admiring your look, your fashion sense screamed Bimbo and he adored it. He always snuck glances at you whenever you weren’t looking or he was goofing off with his friends. He was interested in you, that’s why he wanted to come but Jean and Armin decide to come as well fucking up his plan.

He was admiring your pink Diesel T- Angie shirt that showed off the print of your boobs perfectly to the tight jeans you wore and down to your pink cowgirl boots. Up until Jean grabbed your hand and led you to his big pickup truck, driving off with Connie and Connie on the side of you. They wanted to take you on the ride, away from your house to have their alone time with you.

Indeed they’re plan was a success because now you were in the back of Jean’s pick up truck getting plowed into from the behind by Connie’s cock— around 7.5 inches and thick. Jean took your mouth as he laid down in front of you whilst Armin took pictures of this interaction with your used sucker in his mouth. He was glad that he came with them after being on his farm catering to his father’s chicken coup. He needed a break and you were the perfect person to help him relax. He recorded the way your lips sucked in Jean’s lengthy cock in your mouth with a shuddered breath as he watched. You were fucking Insatiable, almost everyone in the small town thought so.

“ Fucking hell, She’s sucking me like it’s her last taste of ramen noddles, shit~.”, Jean rasped out as he moved your hair out of his vision from seeing you. Connie has your pink heart-shaped Moschino glasses on his eyes as he grabs your ass cheeks in his hands as he hits you from the back. Connie reached to Armin handing him your shoes that was on its way coming off from getting fuck on the truck’s tailgate, “ Here, seems like the slut of the hour just can’t keep up with us after all.”, He snickered before slapping your ass, “ her shoe came off. Now watch and see how she reacts when I do this. Jean keep fucking her face like that, sounds so slutty. Make sure she can’t breathe.”

Your cunt squeezed around Connie— a reaction to his dirty words. You popped Jean’s dick out your wet mouth and looked back at Connie with low fucked-out eyes, “ Please, mmph, keep fucking me like this, I want Armin too. Please Armin, wanna see your cock, wan’ it in my ass because of how pretty it is.” Connie folded right then and there. Yeah he was gonna get you to breed you for that shit. Armin sucked in a breath as he set his phone up on the inside of the truck before looking out to the opening of the dirt road both ways.

And so they did what you asked with a few taunts from Connie and persuasion from Jean for Armin to join without looking out for anybody— I mean after all this is a dead end. You were now all fully on the truck fucking like rabid bunnies. Armin whimpers we’re so pretty, you were kinda glad that Jean is fucking your mouth without any room left to breathe because you were going to cum to the sight of Connie’s pretty red face below you. You felt so full and they felt so good.

Jean yanked your hair to his dick holding you there with a loud moan erupting from his throat, “ My sweet sweet girl, fu-uhhh~” you tried to push your head off his dick, but he patted your head and whispered, “ a little bit longer bunny.” Jean’s cum leaked out of your mouth and mixed with your spit that was lathering his dick caused Armin to snap. Armin came inside of your ass with a loud cry, “ So perfect for me, Honey. So damn perfect.” At the moment of clenching around his cock with your tight hole. Anal was not easy but Armin made it easy for you by prepping you with his spit, lube out of Jean’s truck, and his fingers. He was the perfect person to break your anal virginity.

Connie came into his condom with a loud groan and chants of your name. Armin laughed at the shakes and final thrusts he did, “ Looks like you couldn’t handle her, Connie.” Connie rolled his eyes with a hard lip bite in the process of both of them starting to fuck slowly into you again to let you catch your second orgasm, you didn’t even know you had the first one. Jean pulled out your mouth leaning to hold your cheeks squeezing them together to make more mess of your big cheeks squeezed— covered with spit, cum, and sweat, “ You’ve done so well, my pretty, chubby bunny. Cum for daddy, bunny. Cum for all of us.” You snapped when he mentioned the one word that always got you off.

Your eyes couldn’t see that it was dark outside because your vision was white as you came in Connie’s dick causing him to jump and whine from the tightening around his cock, “ Fucking vixen you are.” They all laughed while you came back to reality, now seeing that it’s dark as hell outside and the only source of light was the flashlight Connie reached to turn on during the time he was digging inside of you. This was the best decision you parents could’ve made because since that move you’ve been getting pleasure. You may not even go back to the city college and just find one down here, who knows.

✧˖° Onyankopon + your kitchen

Onyankopon caught your eyes as soon as he stepped into your pupil's sight. He was so fine and you craved him. Reminds you of your ex from the way he smiled at you. He was a horse trainer and you were gonna get him to train you to ride horses. You don’t even necessarily want to learn, you just want him to speak a lot because his voice was so deep and sexy. And so you asked your dad can you ask him to train you as he was pulling the crops with his ugly yellow gloves.

You already knew the answer because you always got what you wanted from him and your mother. So, you decided to pick out an outfit and do your hair. The outfit was a off shoulder shirt with pink ribbons on the arms and top of it with pink shorts and black and pink cowgirl boots. Your hair was in your hairstyle but in a ponytail with a big pink ribbon to hold it together.

And so onyankopon taught you about how to be calm around horses to not piss them off. Oysnkopon was trying so hard not to look at your ass and body jiggle as you rode the horse listening to every word he says while making purposeful mistakes.

Afterwards you asked the famous question, “ Why are you called a cowboy then, if you ride horses, shouldn’t you be called a horse boy or something? I’m confused”. Onyankopon stood there contemplating on how he should answer this because it was a good and stupid question.

He never answered your stupid question, just showed you why you can only call him an horse boy as he now had your baby pink and yellow panties pushed to the side whilst fucking you into your kitchen island. His long, thick fingers pressed into your big thighs; holding them up and apart, “ Such a pretty pussy you got, such a shame you kept this to yourself all the times I came to this house since y’all - augh!- moved in.” You were a whimpering mess because of how big and deep— kissing your cervix a few times causing you to wince in pain and pleasure. He had you speechless and you hated it because you were always ready to reply to anyone if your mouth wasn’t occupied.

You and onyankopon watched out for your dad, who was far away from your house— at the garden your grandfather started. Your mom was at her new job she got, so it was just you in the house. Onyankopon yanked your ponytail back as he paused his movements, “ Don’t space out on me, now. Can’t and won’t have that. Need all ya’ attention, baby doll. Look me in the eyes as I take this fat pussy of yours, ya hear me?” You nodded, feeling your ponytail loosen from his grip. You wanted to throw your head back, but he told you to keep your eyes on his, even through your blurry vision. “ Please—” you choked out due to the increase of his pace as he looked down at your greedy kissy taking in his cock like it was eating his cock up.

His deep voice grunted in echo all over the kitchen, “ Please what? Baby doll. Gotta say it, not gonna understand you if you aren’t speaking right.” Onyankopon slowly dragged his dick in and out of your pussy— you felt like you were gonna break into sobs. “Full. Sentences. Ahhh shit! Pretty girl” he snapped his hips into yours punctuating every word he said— you never got dick with this much teasing.

You looked down to follow the movements of his cock moving in and out of your tight gummy walls with a vicious lip bite, whimpers following. You reached down to play with your clit in clockwise format, lifting your head to make eye contact with him, “ Please fuck me hard, Daddy. Fuck me like I’m yours. I can’t— please~” onyankopon smiled as he lifted his cowboy hat off the counter placing it on your head, “ As you wish, doll.” Oyankopon fucked you as he pressed his body against yours feeling the warmth of your body against his, your skin was so soft against his but your nails against his naked back was so harsh but felt good, somehow.

You were sure that one of your press-on nails popped off from how hard you were gripping onto his back as he quickened his pace. “ Fuck I know you feel me right ere’, right here. Your cute lil tummy is so damn cute just like your fucking cheeks, wanna’ bite em’.” He touched your stomach and kissed you in your mouth— swapping spit and flipping each other's tongues as he held your body against his. He trailed his kisses all over your face as he fucked into your sweet little pussy.

“ Ahh, Ony, I think m’ cummin’ mmm cummin’.” You kept saying his name in whimpers and that drove him to fuck you even hard. He didn’t stop even if you came around his dick creating a white ring around his dick. “ Oh God.”, you yelled as you climaxed against him and he came inside of you. He bit your cheek with a deep and long groan when he came into your warm pussy making her even more warm with his hot cum flowing inside. Fuck, he didn’t wear a condom! He didn’t care but you did. Onyankopon chuckled to himself inside his head because he was the first person who got to cum inside of you. Instead of his neighbors, it was him. He feels honored.

✧˖° Mikasa, Annie, Sasha, Ymir, and Historia + your room

Your dad wanted to introduce you to picking strawberries and washing them off from the expanding strawberry field behind your house next to the garden. He just didn’t have time to teach you because teaching you means that he’ll have to take all day teaching you how to even clean off strawberries, plus he knew you hated getting dirt or anything underneath your nails. So when Erwin Smith, the man he always spoke with before he even moved here, suggested the girls teach you all about strawberries since it’s three of their jobs to do on his farm.

When they did teach you, Ymir wasn’t letting up on commenting how stupid you are when you asked if we’re going to eat them off the plants or give them to the animals, historia told her to back off you and giggled when your confused pout displayed on your face. Mikasa’s was closed off but very fond of how you looked in that short little skirt you wore. She thought you knew what you were doing wearing something like this to pick dirty strawberries off the plant stems.

Sasha was the fun one and the most welcoming to you teaching you after Historia because this was her job, she even encouraged you to take a bite out of a dirty strawberry as a joke and you were happily about to do so because you always ate the strawberries in the container, only cleaning it off with water. That’s until Annie grabbed your wrist. Now, Annie was a scary one, but you knew underneath that scary aura she possessed— was a woman who needed comfort. And you were happy to give it to her, a sleepover is the best comfort for any girl.

You never experienced a sleepover like the one you were indulging in right now, maybe with Hitch but that was planned. Getting mocked while your ass collides with Historia’s small heart-shaped ass on the 10 inch long double sided tan dildo Ymir brought in her night bag was something that was not planned. You wondered how she even got her hands on this. “ oh, look at the fucking size difference, my my my you two are the most perfect sluts to try this thing on.” Ymir stood in front of a panting, red faced Historia as she taunted her with a small smirk on her face. Annie stood in front of you with sharp blue eyes looking down at your pretty face, “ You look so pretty like this, it’s unbelievable how fast you succumb to the few words that one over there and I.” She pointed at Mikasa, who was rubbing her clit with her pretty fingers. “ Annie continued, “Such a shameful slut letting us talk you into this just by pointing out how your fat pussy showed through them lace Polka dot panties of yours.”

Annie ended her statement by holding the now ripped panties in her hands, twirling them prior to bending down and engulfing your shivering lips onto her mouth. The kiss was so tasty and sloppy, fuck, you wanted more. Why didn’t she give you more? You stopped moving to deepen the kiss between you and Annie just for Historia to bounce herself against you— your moans falling perfectly into Annie’s mouth as you swapped tongues. You heard little squeals from beside you and behind you. Afterwards you felt a body slide under you and Historia— breaking the kiss to stare down at who’s underneath you, you instantly smiled because Ymir’s cunt was on full display for you as she flicked her tongue on Historia’s count with no mercy.

Moaning at the feeling of a finger entering inside you soon matching pace with the dildo moving back and forth into you and Historia. Sasha giggled in your ear as her white bra appeared on the side of you, “ So wet, can’t wait to taste you on my lips when you sit that pretty ass on my face, I’m craving something to drink right now… something sweet like juice and candy mixed together. You’re the right person for that right, { reader}?” You couldn’t focus because of the overstimulation of your pussy and the stares you got from Annie and Mikasa, who now stands in front of you beside Annie. They watched your eyes peer up at them before Mikasa landed a perfect slap on your face at the same time as Annie landing two in both of your hanging tits.

Mikasa grabbed your jaw and bent down to hold eye contact with you, “ Answer her! Don’t leave any of us waiting for an answer again.” Her voice was so smooth and made your entire body shake or was it the fluffy carpet you all were standing or kneeling on, “ Yesss— yes please taste me after this. I need all of you, Ohh~” your wetness was colliding with Historia’s and she couldn’t take it. Her moans were so pretty to everyone but yours was sexy.

Annie slipped on one of your 8 inch strap-on’s, rubbing it on your mouth, “ Open up for me. Want to see how much of me you could take. Wan’ stuff you full of my cock. Naughtily sluts like you deserve this face fuck I’m going to give you.” Mikasa let out a little chuckle at her words before grabbing Sasha’s hand to lay with her on your bed. You heard the sound of two people aggressively kissing and stared at the two of them making out: Mikasa with Sasha between her legs. Not long after, Mikasa trailed kisses down Sasha’s jawline as she locked eyes with you, “ Fuck her good, Annie or I’ll do it myself. Don’t let her waste a drop of spit or gag, she’s taken bigger cocks than that, so she should know how to do it. I’m sure of it.”

Historia moaned out yours and Ymir’s name, luckily Ymir covered her mouth, “ Ahh, m’cummin’— cummin’ so my-Ahh.” Her moans were muffled by her hand and that made you want to bounce your ass faster to overstimulate her. You wanted to chase you own orgasm and Annie saw that, so she grabbed your head and fucked into it like it was a pocket pussy men use. The electricity she felt from getting head from you in your didldo was on another level. “ Don’t talk to me like I don’t know what I’m doing Mikasa.” She stared Mikasa down in advance to peering down at you, taking all of her cock between your glossy two-tone lips. “Holy fuck, she sounds so fucking pretty, taking this cock like the whore she is. Such a shame, you’re a whore for everyone who shows little interest in you, how pitiful.” Her words had some truth to it, therefore you wanted to shut her up by reaching past the straps of the strap-on to her pussy— sticking two fingers inside of her making her let out a shuddering moan.

You were all feeling pleasure because you didn’t even notice that Ymir had a thick pink string from an egg vibrator hanging out her pussy but the others did. Every last one of you were on cloud nine, especially Sasha and Mikasa now scissoring on your bed as you played with Annie pussy. Her face fucking was harsh but it made you squirt against Ymir’s stomach that spurred Ymir to cum from the pressure of water on her lower belly. Nothing but sultry and slutty moans were heard in your room. You were surprised that your parents didn’t come knocking from the little squeals and screams you all produced.

✧˖° Erwin Smith, Nile Dok, and Mike( Miche) Zacharias + Miche’s bar

After a week from the previous sexual encounters, you decided to take a ride to the famous bar that was about 20 minutes away from here. You needed to feel the wind blowing in between your boobs and upon your legs. Feel the wind on your face as you chew on 3 pieces of bubblegum. It was almost getting dark when you arrived at the bar, you thought it would've been packed with people.

Only three men were in there and you were about to walk back out when Miche grabbed your hand, stopping you from going. His voice did wonders to your pussy. Being a fucking nympho is a fucking curse because you folded as soon as you heard his deep voice. He smirked at you as he breathed in deeply, nodding his head like it was a signal to the other two older men sitting down.

Once he got you to sit down and have a drink with them. They’ll introduce themselves as the leaders of the town, you honestly didn’t care for what they had to say after that because the word authority and older was dancing inside of your head as you stared at them with big pretty eyes circling in on each one of them. You were sizing them up. Sizing them up to fuck them.

Afterwards, Erwin would probably be the one who trailed you home to make sure you got home, explaining how he was just “ looking out for a civilian and his fellow friend daughter”

You are so glad you decided to stay and size them up because you were bouncing on Miche’s big dick in the booth next to the dirty window. When you first saw his dick, you gasped as you stared at it. It was so pretty, curved to the right with two thick veins running down his cock and a pink, thick tip. He also had a cigarette and cologne musk to him, your favorite on old men like him. Your arms hugged his back as he lifted you up and down his dick using his big hands whilst talking with Erwin and Nile. He multitasked and he was great at it because he still hit the right places deep inside of your wet, starving pussy, “ So this is the girl, everyone’s been speaking about? Gotta say she’s exactly my, Mmgh!, type.” They were speaking about you like you weren’t even there getting your pussy destroyed by Miche and that turned you on even more.

Erwin chuckled as he dabbed his cigarette on the ashtray just to bring it to his dried glossy lips, inhaling and exhaling it, “ ‘Isn’t she just so pretty?’ That was Armin’s words as he showed the video of a girl sucking Jean’s cock to me when I asked what they all were discussing. Who would’ve known that she would be the same girl in the video. Luck is on our side Mike and Nile because she is indeed a beauty.” The reason he had dried up lip gloss on his lips was because of your ‘Cherry Bomb’ lip gloss you wore when you made out with him and his friends moments before Miche placed you into his lap to fuck you.

Your moans and screams were muffled into Miche’s neck due to the increased movements of his hips snapping up as his nails broke more of the ass part on your white bow stockings, ultimately revealing your pretty panties that had a small bow on the bak. Your panties were pulled to the side as his cock thrust into you. Nile tried so desperately not to look since his wife was back home with his kids. His wife cheated on him yet he still stayed. Yeah that wife. He had to stay loyal but he couldn’t when your big ass recoiled when miche hit deep inside of you. “ Fuck, she’s something, alright.” Nile didn’t wanna admit it, but he wanted to watch you break underneath him.

And he did when he fucked you agaisnt the table in front of them. His dick was a monster right next to Miche’s— tan with a dark pink tip, hairy because you could feel some of the hairs against your ass as he pushed into your pussy, and long with a little girth to him. You couldn’t take him after getting your pussy beat by Miche. Now, your neck was held in his strong hands while he pushed into your soaking pussy. Your nails gripping the table in front of you, “ Kahhh, I can’t.. I can’t take it, please slow down.” You didn’t want him to slow down at all because this was the third best fuck you’ve had. Nile let out a deep, long groan, fucking you even faster, “ Look at her tremble under me, Erwin. Can you say she’ll do the same for you? I don’t thin— fuck!~ stop squeezing me so damn hard, baby girl.”

Erwin lifted the corner of his lips as he watched your tits flop inside your bra, he couldn’t wait to have you, “ Don’t speak too soon, Nile. Marie was trembling underneath m-” his tone was doing something to your soul and you were about to collapse under Nile’s right arm that was around your tummy. Nile didn’t like what he said and took it out on your poor bruised pussy and you loved it especially when your head was pinned onto the table and Erwin was in your line of sight— brushing the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. Nile snarled as he spoke to Erwin, “ Fuck you, Erwin. Fuck, she’s gonna make me, uhhhh~.” He was so vocal as he came inside of you, his cum mixing with Miche’s cum. Miche was so tired that he didn’t even bother to focus on their bickering moment, his eyes were glued to your body. He was fascinated by you. Everyone was. The moment you stepped inside his bar was the moment he knew you were gonna be screaming and cumming on his cock after the little talk you had.

When it was Erwin’s turn in between your legs, he fucked you with your face turned to Miche and Nile who was now panting like a dog outside without any water on a hot summer day. You were cockwarming him and spilling your cum and the other two men cum all over his cock, “ Don’t move now, Darling. Older men are talking, down here we show respect to our elders.” His eyes were on yours as he held two fingers under your chin tilting it up for you to hold eye contact with him, he soon took his focus off you to return it to the men across and on the side of you. You felt humiliation all over and that only turned you on even more, especially when he took a sip of his drink with a cooling “ aah” following, “ They taught that to us in the city, so why wouldn’t they teach that to her generation?”

They answered him and participated in your degradation and when you would try to say something or move, Erwin would perform powerful thrusts, immediately you’ll moan or cry out of pain and pleasure because after all he was the biggest one out of all of them— he was uncut with a wide girth to his already long dick, his smell was alluring to you because he smelled so natural with a twinge of Booze and cigarettes. You heard two names before your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, yet you couldn’t make out the names clearly. It’s not like you know them or will be able to meet them. Right?

✧˖° Levi Ackerman and Hange Zoe + barn house

The moment you met Hange was when she was milking the cows for your dad as a deal with your mom. You didn’t know how they met, but you would assume your mom and dad knew every last person here because they were already planning to move down here before they told you, which upset you to the max. Truth be told, you should’ve figured it out earlier but your mind was filled with sex, fun, and zero responsibilities.

So when you finally decide to go out three days later after your father fussed at you for being out so late, you went to your father’s barn yard that sat on the side of a little river with different fishes inside them. You sat on the hay petting the baby goat in your arms. Hange came in with a bucket of milk, stopping when they saw you with your cute baby yellow and pink dress on, they raised their eyebrow at your yellow bunny ears displayed on your head. They never saw anyone dress or look around like you, not too many chubby people that can dress in this town. Theyinstantly got excited, practically running over there to greet you.

They asked you questions about your choice of style in a town like this and while you answered they couldn’t help but to pay attention to the way your hello kitty necklace and star shaped diamond necklace fell between your high sat boobs. Levi noticed who you were right when he entered the barn disturbing your one sided conversation with the person named Hange. His voice was rough and he was straight forward especially when he asked “ Why dress like a common whore in a barn? Who allowed this?” You didn’t and couldn’t take offense because he was so close to you and eye level to your boobs. You found that funny but wouldn’t say.

Levi was not supposed to have this much interest in you but he did, specifically when he asked a question about why there was a pink bow on top of the alpaca’s ears and insulted you after when you said it looked “cutesy”. He wanted to pluck his ear off from how excited and stupid you sound and looked, but he didn’t. It’s clear you just did what you wanted. So, He decided that you’ll be “fixed” with a good lesson. He couldn’t care less if Hange decides to sit through this lesson. You need discipline and he was the right person to do it.

Your moans were muffled by Hange’s pussy covering your mouth as they sat on your face. Your moans from Levi rubbing his fat tip up and down the opening of your hungry, fat pussy, “ That’s right, shut her mouth all the way up, got tired of hearing her talk about a bunch of nonsense.” He purposely bumped his tip into your clit trying hard not to moan at the feeling of your wetness on his dick. Hange looked back with a laugh as they saw Levi bit his lip as he slid inside of your pussy, “ Looks like you’re enjoying yourself, Levi. Maybe you liked hearing her voice more than you thought you did, huh? Levi?”

Levi was about to say a smart remark when you suddenly latched onto his dick with a vicious grip causing him to let out a low whimper, red sprouted onto his face in shame and embarrassment. Luckily, Hange was too busy enjoying herself with your tongue inside of her, “ Ahh, yes { reader}! You’re doing so good for mommy.” Levi cursed at how tight you clamped on him from her little nickname— slapping your clit as a response, “ Your pussy feels so good, so don’t ruin the moment by breaking my dick with all that useless clenching.” Truth: Levi actually loved the way your pussy took him in. The grip was insane to him since he knew you took Erwin, Miche, and Nile before. They were bigger than him in length, not girth though. He only knows because of the orgies they hosted. They never fucked without condoms so why were you special? Hmm.

Levi bent down to bite your nipple as Hange gripped your coils rocking back and forth with a loud moan. They were both enjoying you and you were enjoying yourself a little too much. Almost breaking at how deep he was fucking you. Hange yanked your head back— your face was in their line of sight and you looked so pretty with their juices covering your cheeks and mouth. They let out a happy laugh, “ Levi you should see how slutty her face looks right now.” They paused and hovered over your chest a bit to let you breathe. “ Don’t need to see that when I have the prettiest thing on her body in front of me, her pussy is swallowing me up Hange so don’t talk because you’re gonna ruin my hard on.”

Hange gasped and was about to reply back to him with a sarcastic remark, stopping when they heard a loud moan and slaps increasing rapidly. “ Ha-Ann~, please keep fucking me like this mister Levi, make me yours. Ouhhh.” Levi let a small smirk display in his red and sweat drenched face in victory, “ Got you right where I want now, pretty girl…” he gripped your stretch mark stomach underneath his little, thick fingers, “ Now in order to keep hitting that spot you want, you have to vow you’re gonna be a good girl after this and stop decorating your father’s barn and barn animals with that pink girly shit.”

Your body was shaking and your words were slipping out of your mouth in stutters when you tried to respond, but his long strokes inside of your velvet walls was enough to make you lose basis of the statement he just said to you. Hange tapped your face with three taps, “ Hey, Hey, my little butterfly, don’t tap out now, are you gonna obey what Levi said.” The table bench underneath you all felt like it was about to collapse from the shaking you and Levi were creating, so you quickly answered levi in a loud, “ Yes, just— ahhnn fuck me harder, please sir.. pl-pleasee mommy!!” Levi threw his head back to get his hair out of eyes and locked eyes with Hange, whose neck was turned to him, nodding his head. I’m his mind, he wondered when Furlan and Isabel is coming to town because he knew they would fuck and love on you just as much as he and Hange are doing.

Once Hange moved their pussy back to your mouth, you were in heaven because they tasted so good. Your slurping was music to both of their ears, so Levi rewarded you by placing his head in between your pretty boobs, fucking you faster in the mating press position. His balls were slapping the opening of your other hole and his arms were tightly around your abdomen. He loved the feeling of your stomach and tit moving up and down against his body. You were remarkable. The table shook underneath you three and you were so glad that this was drilled into the ground outside in the back of the barn because if it wasn’t this would’ve been fell. Levi dick was hitting the right spot inside of you, which made your loud moans get Hange off. The strength of your tongue circling around their clit prior to moving inside of their wet pussy was amazing.

All while this was happening, you all didn’t notice a tall shadow in the woods behind the barn watching you all with a small smirk on his face. You were a dumb silly girl who was easy to manipulate and he was going to have much fun with you later on. His nephew may have had you first, but he’ll fuck you better because he need you to know that there is bigger and better out here for you. Plus, he hated your grandfather and now your father, so he was glad he found out that you were his daughter. Only time will tell.

✧˖° Kenny Ackerman + at the lake beach party in the woods

The younger crew that you previously met on the first night invited you out for a party at the private lake beach of Napeville. You have never been to one of these types of swimming parties, mainly because you wouldn’t dare touch the water because of how dirty it is and because you have never been in the woods like this. You blamed your parents for this because now you have to go through the woods just to get to a party Reiner was co-throwing with Connie.

At first, your parents didn’t want you to go since you were on duty-calls for sneaking off to fuck Levi and Hange, they obviously didn’t know that was the reason. Reiner convinced them and said he was going to “ look out for you and help you finish your duties tomorrow. You didn’t know why your parents suddenly trusted Reiner, but they let you go before telling you to watch out for a man named “ Kenny the ripper”. You paid no mind as you walked to your room.

One thing you looked forward to was looking cute at the party. You had the perfect skirts and bikini to wear. Your bikini was a size smaller than your actual size and you and everyone loved it. You would think you would be shy with a body like yours, but you weren’t because you and the others thought you were the sexiest person at the party especially with your little back rolls and tummy out.

Your swimsuit did you justice and Kenny thought the same when he lurked around watching you holding the red cup in your hands, never once stepping near the water. He needed to get close and he didn’t have a way right now, so imagine his surprise when you made it easier for him to fuck you while walking through the woods to get to your car for an extra towel for Mikasa.

On the way back to Mikasa, you ran into the chest of Kenny Ackerman, a man your parents told you to stay away from just recently too. You couldn’t be stupid enough to insult the older man with a smart remark of how old he is and how you heard that old people have bad eyesight right? You couldn’t be stupid enough to smile when he gave you a backwards compliment on how the pretty gingham wedges you were walking in the woods with is a stupid and cute choice for you, right? You also couldn’t be stupid enough to let him hold you by the neck against a thick tree, only to react with a bite of your plump lip, right? Well you were indeed stupid enough to do all of those things in the act of also getting off to how strong the older man was, wanting a piece of him in the end.

Reasons why you were tied at the hands with your bikini bra and Kenny bottoming inside of you against a tree. Your bouncing tits littered with dark stretch marks hurt as they bounced back and forth against the tree and your moans were muffled by your bikini bottoms, so you were completely naked with only his cowboy hat on your head. Kenny let out a low maniacal laugh at the desperation your eyes plead as they looked back at you, “ My my my, sweet pea, such a dumb little thing aren’t cha’? Didn’t the little shit teach you not to do anymore dumb shit anymore or was it girly shit? Hell if I know, I just know I’m gonna fuck you like the fuckdoll you are.” He tried not to let out a loud moan as he watched your ass bounce back on his big cock, he was bigger than Levi and Erwin put together, you hated it because it didn’t necessarily fit in all the way— your pussy was only taking him just above his pelvis.

“ Gonna tell your old man that his daughter is a town’s whore and shouldn’t be allowed to be here. Maybe then that poor excuse of a father will grant me half of his farm land once I send the pictures to his phone, eh?… Shit, keep squeezing me like that, sweet pea, and I’m gonna breed this fat little cunt— fill it to the brim and send you home with the next Ackerman generation inside of you.”, Kenny says with a powerful thrust inside of your pussy. The slapping sounds and your muffled pleas were echoed throughout the little area in the woods. Your pussy was something else to him. She warmed his dick up mighty good and he couldn’t help but to admire you. You were definitely a beauty so maybe he shall stick to his original plan.

“Mmgh- mmmm- pldhpse.”, you felt like your eyes were stuck in the back of your head from how hard he was pounding you from behind and against a tree at that. Trees were yucky and splintery to you, in the back of your mind you hoped that the wood wouldn't magically appear in your stomach and tits. He bit your ear when he dropped his pants to the ground, instantly groping one of your tits with his right hand and playing with your pussy with his left hand. “ Come on, my pretty pea, set up a little get together with myself and the old fuck of a father, a great fuck greater than the one you have right now is guaranteed as the prize.”

Kenny slowed down his pace before stopping and pulling out of you with his cock touching the back of your thighs. He took the bikini piece balled up in your mouth out to let you breathe and talk properly. You didn’t get what he was asking and thought he was an old friend that your family knew, “ yes— please, please, please, I’ll get you that meeting, fuck me Mr., I need— I need your dick inside me. No mercy on my pretty little cunt.” Kenny stared at you wide eyed when you turned around to lock eyes with him. Holy Shit! You were such a needy little whore. He was going to have fun with you. He met a couple of women that were needy for his cock, but not like this.

The next thing you know, your feet was dangling in the air—on the side of his naked waist during the time of his arms underneath your thighs, holding you up as he fucked into you like a mad dog in heat. You were surprised that he could pick you without cracking any bones or hurting his back or arms. He did hunt animals and people, but you didn’t need to worry your pretty head about that. But his cock felt like it was punching your stomach in and out, “ ha-nnn~ s’good, it’s sooo good. Gonna cum all over your meaty cock. Fuck!” Your moans were filling his ears and he loved every word that came out of your mouth, so he sped up his pace, your heels long gone and his pants dropped to his ankles so now you both were fucking like the vampires in the woods on true blood. So deep into each other that you couldn’t think or hear, otherwise you would’ve heard your name being called by Mikasa and Eren.

“ Shh, what’s that I hear, little pea? I hear your friends getting closer, but you don’t seem to care, do you? You stupid little girl, you don’t care that your friends will see you fucking the one man they were told to watch out for? Ah, I got it, your- fucking hell you’re clamping down on me like you never want me to pull out. Such a bad girl you are, huh? Yeah, s’fucking naughty!”, Kenny’s words were getting to you more than the close shouts from Mikasa and Eren. You couldn’t even figure out which direction they were coming from because now Kenny was dipping and moving his hips in a rhythm you couldn’t even decipher in music class if you cared for it. Fuck, he was what you needed. Kenny's big hands gripped your ass in his hands, mounding them as he pounded inside of your soaking pussy that was ready to squirt all over his cock. He loved the way you held onto him tightly in fear of him dropping you. You were a piece of work that was sure. Considering how hard and fast he’s going, this would be your first time squirting and it’s sad that it was by the one person you were told to stay away from. When he introduced himself to you after making you squirt and cream onto his cock, all at the same time, You knew you practically signed over your father’s life and land of crops for big mean Kenny Ackerman. You were so fucked, yet you didn’t even noticed or care because you were too fucked out to know that he was the man to fear.

✧˖° Reiner, Porco, and Pieck + Reiner’s room in his ranch

Reiner couldn’t sleep unless he gets a chance with you, but why hadn’t you even looked his way. It's been weeks since his lake-beach party and he couldn’t get you out his head, hell he couldn’t even get the strawberry or other candy/fruit scent out of his mind as well. He knew of the others fucking you and still wanted you, so when you suddenly stood laughing next to Pieck with a big, blue lollipop in your mouth, he couldn’t help himself to fantasize that that blue sucker was his cock instead. He couldn’t help but to look over at Pieck and now Porco eyeing you sucking on the sucker with pure fondness in their postures and eyes. He had a plan.

Luckily for him, Pieck was one step ahead of him when she asked you to go to lunch with them. As she wrapped her arms around your shoulders, she brought her fingers to your shirt that said the words “ Dumb Bimbo in Charge” with rhinestone letters. Reiner and Porco knew what she was doing by making you explain what your shirt meant just for them to not pay attention to shit you were saying. Hell, you didn’t even know what it means because you were too dumb to get it, you just thought it was cute. Too focus on how excitedly your boobs bounced as you tried to explain what your shirt meant to you.

Only when you asked the question “ Do you wanna know what Blue lemonade tastes like?” They paid attention and Porco was surprised to see your eyes on him and Reiner, especially Reiner. Gulping and nodding to your question cause you to suddenly dip your blue sucker in your lemonade— putting it back in your mouth sucking harshly. Eventually pulling it out of your mouth whilst bringing Reiner’s face close to yours kissing him. Pock and Pieck were jealous and from that moment on you all decided to visit Reiner parents ranch they left to him.

Your body felt pleasure from all over as you lay under Pieck in a 69 position, taking Porco’s cock inside of her hot pussy during the time of you taking Reiner’s cock inside of your pussy. His moans were so whiny as he moved in and out of your drenched pussy with a thumb inside of your puckering hole, “ She’s so- ahhunn- she’s so eager to take me in, Porco.” You indeed were eager to take him in as the wet sounds of yours and Pieck’s pussy rippled in the room you all were in. Porco grunted as Pieck squeezed against his cock, “ Shit Pieck, Reiner shut the hell up, m’tryna get off here and all I hear is your whiny- annoying ass voice.” Reiner didn’t respond to Porco’s comment due to feeling your pussy convulse around his dick.

You, on the other hand, was in love with the way Reiner cock took up so much space inside of your pussy, filling you just right. Tears were brought to your eyes as you started feeling Reiner’s balls slapping against your hole from how deep he was inside of you, “ Mm’guh, s’deep, I can’t breathe, mmmm.” Reiner smirked as Porco eyes widened at how lewd you were talking about Reiner’s dick beating your pussy in. He couldn’t let Reiner win this, so he stuck two fingers in your mouth since your face was facing him as he dug deep into a moaning Pieck, “ Suck, bitch. After you’re done, suck my girl’s clit as I fuck her. That’s what you’re good for right, Ymir told us all about how skilled your pussy eating is.” You coughed and drooled on his thick fingers as they hit the pack of your throat.

Reiner hissed shapely at your clenching on his cock, landing a harsh smack on your thighs with his right hand, “ Seems your pussy took a liking to my cock, doll face. Wonder if she could take the shape of my cock even better than she is right now? Shit~ yeah, yeah, just like that. So fucking tight. Oh~” Pieck was so out of touch with this world that she jumped when she felt a hand slap her clit from below, she then proceeds to stroke a finger over your slit— taking in how sticky her hands are becoming. her moans only grew louder when she felt a calming suck on her clit from you, “ Pieck’s dripping— mmmgh! dripping so much Porco. She’s doing so good for us.”

Porco eyes rolled to the back of his head as you licked from Piecks pussy to the part of his cock that wasn’t inside of Pieck. Reiner didn’t take kindly to you lifting yourself up to do that. In response, he slammed inside of you, gripping your love handles harshly as he pounded inside of your pussy, “ Stop trying to run, doll face, can’t have you slipping from me to please that fucker.” It was like a different man came out as he pounded into your now bruised pussy. You couldn’t keep up with the licking of Pieck’s cunt because of the power thrust Reiner was doing to your body. “ yes, yes, yeshhh!” Your moans were shut off by Porco snatching your hair up to Pieck’s saturated pussy taking in his cock with a grip you could visibly see.

Reiner and Porco’s chest were glistening with cold sweat as they fucked you and Pieck with meaning. You were on the verge of cumming and wanted to try to hold it, but Pieck latched her luscious lips on your clit, sucking and curling her tongue around you eagerly. Your screams were muffled as it vibrated Pieck’s pussy causing her to squirt on your face and Porco’s cock. Porco couldn’t believe he was living his dream right now, “ Fuck~ I guess you are worthy little something huh, so fucking sexy.” He rubbed your head during the time of you swirling your tongue on Pieck’s slightly tan pussy. Soon after, Porco gripped Pieck’s hips as he slowly overstimulated her pussy like Reiner was doing your creaming pussy, “ doing so good for me, Pieck. A fucking good girl, now make her squirt f’me, P’.”

Pieck begins to licking more rapidly with her moans vibrating your clit. Reiners pounding only added to your pleasure and soon you were soaking and creaming around his cock and on Pieck’s face. Her eyes closed as you squirted on it, taking in the taste of your juices as well. Reiner’s hand gripped harshly on the headboard of the bed you all were on and with a loud yell of your name he came inside of you with no hesitation. You were so glad that you went to the clinic for a check up and got on birth control, otherwise you would’ve been done for. Kids were not on your list but it was on Reiner’s list as he came inside of you seeing nothing except for hazy imaginary snowflakes as he looked at the ceiling. His chest on Pieck’s head as he breathed into her hair, only jumping up from how shook your body was and Porco’s scream as he came into Pieck’s pussy.

Pieck’s moans were so fucking cute to you. You would love to do this again with the three of them, only next time you wanted Porco for yourself. Reiner was perfect, yet you still wanted more. More was in Porco especially with the way he locked eyes with you when you looked up at him through low eyes. His chest raised up and down with the eyes of a person who wanted whatever was in front of them like a kid seeing their favorite plushy and wanting it. Reiner bent down to kissed your thigh whispering a raspy “ thank you” and you squeezed around his limp cock still inside of you. Nothing but a grunt was heard when you did that. He hoped what he heard from your dad wasn’t true. He didn’t want you to leave to go stay with a relative in the city, just to go to college. It’s a college here, a small one, but he hopes it’ll do. It’s also 30 miles away so why couldn’t you stay? Stay.

✧˖° Keith Shadis and Eren Kruger + Theo Magath + at a dinner party inside of your parents house

Your father and mother told you that they were having a dinner party with the residents of this town, mostly the higher ups and they told you to dress appropriately. They were wary of your definition of appropriate so they had to specify it two times for you to get it. And when you asked if you have to attend, the look on your mothers face told you your answer. You are their daughter and you’re gonna have to take over after your parents die. Generational farming was not for you. You’re definitely gonna be the one to end that curse.

The list of people that showed up was huge, luckily your house was huge enough for them. Everyone you had sex with was here probably, not that you care. They just better keep it quiet. The noise downstairs was filled with nothing but plates and untensils clattering with loud laughs and talks. You heard a portion of the older man you fucked until the topic of Kenny Ackerman came up.

You wanted to eavesdrop so bad, but thought otherwise because you wanted to finger yourself to the last encounter with the said man. With your head against your fluffy pink silk pillow and hands locked in the handcuffs you brought, you fingered yourself to the memories inside of your head of every person you fucked. You couldn’t help yourself and couldn’t stop fingering yourself as the noise drowned out. You didn’t even stop fingering yourself when Eren Kruger walked into your room, mislaying your room for the bathroom.

Kruger eyes were wide when he walked in on you knuckle deep inside of your pussy moaning multiple men names, some of them was friends of his like Erwin, Levi, Ackerman, Zeke, Hange, etc. he made the conclusion that you were the little fox his colleagues were spending weeks talking about like they were in love with you. God. You looked so pretty with your mouth formed in a little O as you struggled to get off due to your pink handcuffs on your wrist. He closed the door not so quietly causing you to gasp out at the sudden noise. Your eyes widened when you saw who it was. The man who came here three weeks ago to talk with your dad; he was with two other men though.

His grey eyes peeled into you before he spoke to you in a deep gruff voice, “ So you’re the infamous, { reader}. Such a beauty you are…” he stood there, eyeing you slowly closing your legs with your fingers now placed on your pretty stomach, over the fabric of your pretty white dress. Your thighs were what he wanted to be suffocated in and that’s exactly why he came closer to you. You tried to move back to sit up, but he shook his head and immediately you stopped moving like you were in a trance, “ Can I help you out, princess? Want to make you feel good and much better. Allow me to make you feel good, princess.”

You stared at him getting on his knees in his black trousers. You were eyeing the door, slithering your eyes back to him with a meek nod of your head. You were never shy but he had the aura to make you do so. Kruger didn’t waste any time pulling off your panties underneath your dress you were supposed to make your way down the stairs with, “ so pretty.” His deep voice caused you to clench at air and he chuckled with his head still under your dress. He licked a strip of your fat pussy, your body shuddering in response followed by a little whine, “ fuck, please continue.” Kruger obeyed you and took long and slow licks up and down your pussy. Older men and women have proven to be better at everything because you’ve never gripped the sheets just from three licks of your pussy.

Kruger enjoyed the taste of your pussy, wanting to suck that pretty, puffy clit. He sucked your clit with meaning causing you to raise up a little to bunch your dress up over your plump tummy revealing his pretty eyes already on you. His facial structure made him highly attractive outstandingly when he moved his tongue in a slow circle around your clit. You two were lost in each other’s eyes that when the door opened and closed you couldn’t hear it. Your head tilted back at how good he was eating your pussy, “ Just like that, mmm, Mr. Kruger I want more.” Girls in their 20s wasn’t his type because they’re so whiny and much younger than him, yet he couldn’t help groaning into your pussy at your whines.

A hand suddenly grabbed your chin, squeezing your cheeks together. Your eyes widened in high alert when you saw the sunken eyes of a man you were afraid of ever since he came here giving you a mean stare: Keith shadis was a man you genuinely feared and respected enough to want. Kruger hummed against your Pussy prior to speaking once he detached from you with a string of saliva and juice following, “ See you made it, shadis. Didn’t expect you to come in and join, consider me impressed.” Keith's eyes hardened at Kruger, turning to you before he captured your lips with a bruising, hard kiss. Your hips bucked into the air from the hot, steaming kiss you shared with the tall 6’6 man, they were both so tall and big. Keith broke from the kiss with a little peck on your chin and lips, “ Couldn’t let you have all the fun, haven’t had this much fun since 95’. Wouldn’t miss it, although her mouth looks a little bored, a little conniving whore like her needs a cock in her mouth to satisfy her. Who knows? She might even have an oral fixation and if she doesn’t, I’ll create it for her to have.”

Keith pushed you back on the bed, taking his shoes off to climb onto the bed with his knees on the side of your head— messing up your hair a little bit. He unbuckled his pants and his dick popped out slapping you on the forehead, he was uncircumcised yet still had a huge cock you wanted down your throat. You grabbed his cock at the same time Kruger pushed his tongue inside of your pussy, “ Augh-mmmph.” As soon as you opened your mouth, Keith shoved his cock down your throat, fucking your throat fast with a vicious grip on your hairstyle you got. It hurts so good. Theo opened the door and slide inside to watch with a cigar hanging out his mouth. His eyes was focused on how well you took Keith’s dick inside of your mouth. He looked down at his trousers and shifted. Keith and Kruger knew he was there but you didn’t. How could you when Keith’s groans and Kruger’s slurping was heard along with your muffled moans from the dick sucking you were happily doing.

Keith was in heaven once your tongue slid I’ve this veins and Kruger was in heaven when your pussy drowned his face in your juices. Theo Magath was just a bystander and man did he want to join— he’ll wait out his turn. While you were about to get fucked out by three older men, your family was downstairs with the men and women you already gave yourself to. Such a slut and your parents had no idea what you’ve been doing and what you’re doing right now. You heard them calling you downstairs, though you were too busy being used by all three men upstairs in your recent decorative room. After all, you are the Farmer’s daughter that turned into the town’s Slut. Therefore, you are now the Town’s Slut and you’re not going anywhere else any time soon.

Tagging: @shunsuist @honeybleed @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @nutheadgeenat ( if you wanted to be tagged), @angelshub @bontens-angel and anyone else who wants to be tagged in.

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peachesofteal · 3 months

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Simple Math / Part Six

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4k words - AO3 Warnings - tags: 18+ MDNI. No smut but this fic contains mature themes. Nurse reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Reference to past domestic violence. Angst. Alcohol. Crying, anxiety, panic. Johnny in distress. Johnny is still a menace. Soft dads. POV switches. Note: Safe sleep for infants always. I do not endorse sleeping with your baby in your bed. This is a fic not real life. Simon does some digging.

“Shhh now, ye’re alright.”

Johnny coos, Penny cradled up to his chest. He’s not wearing a shirt, eyes still half sealed shut with sleep, and she squalls in his arms, screaming as loud as her little lungs will allow. “What is it, mah wee lamb? Are ye hungry? Do ye need a change?” He checks her nappy, efficiently looking for a mess or something to clean up and is nearly disappointed when he finds her still dry. If it’s not her nappy, then maybe her stomach? Could she be hungry again? He thumbs through the notes on his phone to find Simon’s last entry: 23:20 – 50 ML.

That was only an hour ago.

He frowns, walking in a circle, bouncing her gently, trying to settle her back to sleep. She’s so tiny, and still has grown so much in just the short time since they brought her home. It amazes him. It terrifies him.

“What is it, sweet bairn? What’s got ye all upset?” He touches his lips to softest skin he’s ever felt, his thumb trying to swipe away the tracks of tears on her cheeks. “Please dinnae cry. I-“

“You okay?” Simon clears his throat behind him, and Johnny tenses.

“We’re fine. Ye’re supposed to be sleepin’.”

“Heard the two of you in here fussing. Thought I could help.” Simon’s trying to be supportive, trying to be a good partner, Johnny knows, but all he can feel is irritation, a defensive reaction making his hackles rise.

It’s not fair. He’s so good at it. He’s a natural. And Johnny… Johnny feels like he’s failing his own kid, when she’s not even a month old yet.

“I dinnae need-“

“Hey.” Simon touches his elbow, and then his chin, tilting his face upwards. “I know you don’t, love. You’re doing a great job. It’s not your fault she’s having a rough go.” He soothes him, fingers kneading into the top of his spine, squeezing the nape of his neck and pulling him into his arms. Penny is still crying, but softer now, a low-pitched tone of misery that makes his heart ache, and he feels so overwhelmed, so helpless, staring down at her as she tries desperately to tell him what's wrong, the only way she knows how. He rests his cheek against Simon’s chest, melting into his hold, letting him wrap his arms all way around his waist.

“She hates me.” Johnny grumbles, and Simon presses his mouth to Johnny’s temple in short, succinct kisses.

“She doesn’t. She’s brand new. She can’t hate anything, yet, and certainly not her Da.” He strokes her cheek. “Let’s bring her to bed, see if we can get her down and then one of us can put her back in the crib, alright?” Johnny sighs.

“Alright.”

“What’re you doing after this?”

“Going to bed?” What else would you be doing?

“I’m thinking about going to Jackie’s for a drink… wanna come?” Nia untucks her scrubs, pulling the top up over her head.

“Jackie’s, huh?” You chew on your lip. You shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t. But… Jackie’s is a dive. It’s dark, and dingy, with black walls, black floors, no window in sight. And... it’s a hospital haunt.

“It’s my birthday.” She whispers, casting a glance around the rest of the room. “I’m not… it’s not a thing, I just want to go, have a few to celebrate.” You take a deep breath. “Please?” She tacks on at the end, and your shoulders dip down in defeat.

“Okay. One. And then I gotta go.”

“Yes!” She cheers, excitement smashing her palms together.

Nothing like a seven am beer.

Jackie’s is a distinct place. It’s one of the only twenty-four-hour liquor licenses left in the city, or so you’ve been told, and has been frequented by hospital staff for decades. It’s dart boards and dark wood floors, cheap beer and rail vodka, a worn to hell pool table, and an old, disabled juke box that someone broke intentionally, years ago. It’s an institution, and reminds you of some old places you used to frequent, when you weren’t… who you are now. Years ago, before, you used to love a good dive bar. Didn’t mind the way the floor stuck to your feet, and you considered yourself nearly tactical at darts. It was a source of pride, the accuracy, the rate at which you could make a bullseye, even when you were a few sheets to the wind.

“Coulda been a surgeon.” You’d tease, a smirk growing across your boyfriend’s face.

“If you were a surgeon, sugar, who’d be at home waitin’ for me after work?” He’d push back, coating the warning in an adoration, giving whoever was undoubtedly watching a slick smile before snaking an arm around your waist and tugging you close. “You don’t need to be surgeon. You don’t even need to work. You have me.”

You thought you knew, then. Knew how to handle it, how to navigate the ever-present, ever-growing threat… but you were wrong.

You were so, so wrong.

“So, heard there’s a spot opening up on days.” Nia chucks her purse at the bar top, climbing onto the stool next to you. “You’ve got the seniority… you givin’ it any thought?” The bartender walks by with a hello, and you nod at him.

“Old Speck please. And no, I like nights.” She raises an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know Americans liked Old Speck.”

“We have it in the states. I didn’t live under a rock.” You quip, and she laughs before ordering her own poison, a choice that makes your own eyebrows shoot up in question. “Vodka on the rocks?”

“I’m a straight to the point kind of girl.” She explains. “So, no days?”

“No days. You?”

“I might. Night shift is kicking my ass.” She complains. “Don’t even know what day it is half the time. My rhythm is off.”

“You need like, at least six months to fully adjust.” You put a note down in exchange for your beer, and then the bartender scuttles away, distracted by some insistent woman at the other end of the bar.

“Six months?!” You’re about to launch into your spiel about how it’s not that bad when your phone vibrates in your pocket.

>Make it home from work alright?

>It’s Johnny, by the way :)

The two texts are the start of a new group chat with your number, Johnny’s number and the number you put in your contacts just yesterday… Simon’s. Your head jerks back on instinct, confused.

“You okay?” Nia asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, fine just…uh-“ She peeks over your arm, and giggles.

“Is that your patient? Two sixty-eight?”

“What?”

“Your patient. The military hottie. The one that’s always lookin’ at your bum.” Your face burns, and she tsks. “Ah, don’t be embarrassed. He’s smokin’. Wish he looked at me the way he looks at you.” You’re surprised at the flare of irritation that starts up in your stomach at her, a hot streak of jealously simmering there, burning away indignantly. “Aren’t they… I mean… isn’t the scary mask guy his partner?” He’s not scary, you scowl inwardly. He’s just… protective. The butterflies in your stomach startle, and you drift back to last night, in the stairwell, in the car.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart.”

“If you ever need anything, Johnny and I… we’re here.”

Nia says your name, dragging you back to earth, and you shrug. “Yes… they… they’re together. It’s just been hard on them, so I think there’s a bit of an attachment growing there. You know, it’s not unusual.” She bites her lip, mouth pushing up into a smile.

“They’re quite fit. Wouldn’t mind if they formed an attachment to me.” She pauses, delicately sucking her gasoline on ice up through a straw. “Gonna text him back?”

“Nia.” You hiss, and she barks out a laugh.

“Oh, come on, just a bit of fun. I don’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s not appropriate.” You remind her, and she rolls her eyes.

“You’re such a stick in the mud sometimes. Remember when Marshall was fucking his brain cancer girl? Now that, was not appropriate.” You do remember- Marshall’s sudden absence, the whispering, the HR investigation that spanned weeks, interviews with everyone on the floor.

Your beer goes sour in your stomach.

“I gotta get home.” You wrap an arm around her shoulder with a squeeze and a whisper. “Happy Birthday.” You feel bad for abandoning her, and maybe in another life you might even consider her a friend, but you’re already too exposed here as it is, and staying any longer would be too indulgent- not to mention, incredibly stupid.

You pass another nurse on the way out and him know that Nia’s at the bar, alleviating your guilt just a tad before you hike up your hood and make a beeline for the train.

By the time you get back to your hotel room, get showered, and collapse on top of the far too big bed, it’s nearly been an hour. You plug your phone in, unlocking the screen to flick on do not disturb, and realize the group message is still open, cursor blinking, waiting for your response.

It’s fine. You can tell you got home okay, that’s not crossing any lines.

>Yeah, just got settled for bed. See you later!

A text from Simon chimes back within a minute, and you squint at it, one eye open.

>Get some rest.

The floor is dead silent at the beginning of your shift.

Nothing beeps or whines or cries, no noise echoes around the corner to where you’re scrolling through Johnny’s chart, getting caught up on his day, triple checking that his levels and vitals are all within normal range. He passed his follow up for the liver procedure with flying colors, and the relief you feel is not unexpected, the weight of worry lifting free from your shoulders without another thought.

He’s fine, he’s better than fine, he’s… too healthy for the ICU.

Reality hits you like a truck, and you stop short, sneakers squeaking along the floor.

He won’t be your patient anymore.

He won’t… be your patient anymore.

The thought twists you into a mess of complicated emotions. A snarled, tangled viper's nest of unknowns, uncertainties, things you're desperately trying to tuck back behind your heart, hide them away so no one, not even yourself, can see them.

This is a good thing. This is what you want. Stable patients, on their way to recovery.

So, you’ll miss them, that’s okay. There’s a little bit attachment, that’s alright.

This is the best case scenario. You’re making a mess of things. You’re getting too involved with your patient and his family. You let Simon drive you home, for fucks sake.

They’re getting confused, because you’re the caretaker. It happens all the time. As soon as Johnny steps down, they’ll forget all about you.

You’re risking too much. You’re risking their safety, their child’s safety, your own.

It’s for the best.

You put your best work smile on when you approach his room, pulling as much air into your lungs as you can manage.

Focus on your job. Your patient. You’re a professional.

Johnny is alone. No Simon, no visitors, nobody keeping him company. It’s a strange sight, and he looks almost uncomfortable, creased brow lowered down over his eyes. That’s… odd. Worse, there’s a heaviness in his gaze, sadness pulling his mouth downwards, usual playful demeanor nowhere in sight. Even sad, he’s a marvel, and every day, he gets stronger, he gets healthier, he gets closer to leaving this room, amazing you with his tenacity, his will.

“Hey, you on your own tonight?” You casually knock on the door frame, and then pull it shut behind you, cocking your head.

“Aye.” He’s sullen, his despair tugging you closer to the bed, an urge to try to comfort him too strong to deny.

“How are you feeling?” You try the subtle question, hoping he'll be forthcoming, and you keep yourself composed as you wait for his answer.

“’m alright.” You tab through his chart, glancing it over once more, if only to assuage your own anxieties, and then tap into his vitals. Everything looks good, last labs look great… so what’s going on?

“Just alright?” His fingers flex in the blanket, tanned skin against white linen, picking at fibers and threads, unable to hold himself still. He looks like he’s going to burst open at the seams, explode inside this room, a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the end of the countdown.

A tear tracks down his cheek. “Johnny?” You step closer, close enough so your fingers graze his, trying to delicately let him know, you’re here. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. What’s going on?” The monitor beeps steadily in the silence, his chest depresses with a gust of air.

“It’s… it’s nothin’ bun. I’m jus’… I’m havin’ a bad day.”

“Want to talk about it? I hear I’m a pretty good listener.” You encourage, and his face twists.

“No, I- Ach. Aye, alright.” He shifts in the bed, and you hover in case he needs help, but he waves you away. “It’s… bein’ in here. I want to be wi’ my family. Penny turned one, before I left for this assignment. Was only supposed to be two weeks tops, but then it turned into a month, then two. And now, I’m home… but ’m not really home, and I-“ His voice cracks, raw thread of agonized emotion separating his words, and he swallows it, forcing it back. “I’m blown to bits and cannae even see my own daughter. I’m missin’ out on everything.” Oh, Johnny. Your heart is heavy, and it hurts for him, bleeds as he wipes his face.

“You’re not blown to bits, just a little banged up.” You give him a soft smile, and when he shakes his head, your fingers find his on instinct. You don’t even stop to second guess yourself, fully sinking into the contact with a gentle squeeze. “Hey, look at me.” His lashes are wet, sticky with tears, and he sniffles. “You’re making great progress, Johnny, going to be out of here in no time. You won’t even be in the ICU much longer, and then once you’re downstairs, Penny will be able to come visit all the time. After that, it won’t be too much longer until you’re back home with them.” He nods, and you stroke your thumb across his knuckles.

“Ye think so?”

“You’re the toughest patient I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a fair amount, you know. Traumatic injury recovery takes time, it takes patience, but you’re doing a great job of it so far. You just have to take it one day at a time. Before you know it, you’ll be at home on your own couch, bossin’ Simon around all day instead of me.” He laughs at that, a throaty chuckle capable of spreading heady warmth through your veins, and then gives you one of those stupidly stunning smiles.

“Shouldnae be cryin’ in front of ye.”

“You can cry in front of me any time you want. That’s what I’m here for. Besides, it’s not the first time.” You tease and he rolls his eyes.

“Doesnae count. I was high.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” The untouched dinner tray on his side table catches your eye, and chilling worry reappears in the back of your mind. “You didn’t eat?”

“Didnae have an appetite until ye showed up, pretty girl.” Okay. You can remedy this easily, if he's interested in eating. Lack of appetite is alarming, but if you can get him to eat now...

“You hungry? I haven’t eaten yet. Want me to grab you something?” He brightens, indulging in a spectacular smile, and you take it as a yes with a small laugh. “Alright. Let me run down to the café, yeah?”

“What’s that saying, about how I hate to see ye go, but love to watch ye leav-“

“Okay!” you practically shout, cutting him off, fire racing across your skin, and he snickers, palm pressing against his heart like he’s wounded. “I’ll be right back.” You give him a serious look, and and he rubs his palm through his hair, mirth sparkling in his eyes. Holy hell. How is he so attractive? And how is it still so blinding, every time?

You get two of the only option left this late in the evening, chicken soup and some sourdough, balancing the bowls carefully on their trays until you’re placing them down in the room, swinging the little table over Johnny’s lap and settling in beside him, perched on Simon’s recliner. The soup is warm, spiced with herbs and thick with noodles, and you're pleased that it's better than you were expecting, happy that Johnny seems to like it as well.

"Wanted to take ye out properly for our first date, but this will have ta’ do. Simon’s gon’ be so bloody jealous.” He masterfully hums between your bites, and your eyes go wide, trying and failing to swallow your soup instead of choking on it.

“Johnny, we… this… I- this isn’t a date!” you squeak.

“Why not?” He asks, inflection innocent, and your brain rattles around inside your skull, splitting down the middle, falling apart in bewilderment. Why not? What does he mean?

“You… you have a partner. Simon? You know, your family that we were literally just talking about?” He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with this look on his face, one you can’t interpret. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What did Simon tell ye, the other night. When he took ye home?”

“What? He… I don’t remember.” Does he know that Simon gave you his phone number?

Of course, he knows, he started that group text.

Does Simon know what Johnny said, about you coming into their lives? About-

“Didnae he tell ye, we’re here for ye?”

“Y-yeah.”

“We, bunny? We.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” He sighs. What is he trying to say? What is going on?

“We like ye. Like I said, we think ye’re really special. Simon, and I. Together, bun.”

“Wh-what?” Puzzle pieces snap together and then break apart, like a landscape jigsaw that you spent days completing once before it was promptly ruined. Does he... does he mean... Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. You have to squash this. Now. Just explain it, he’ll get it. He’s smart. “No… no, Johnny it’s just… it’s this thing, that happens. Patients get attached to their nurses or doctors sometimes, it’s normal. You d-don’t like me, I promise. There’s nothing even to like.” He blinks, jaw grinding under stubble. If Simon’s stare feels like he’s reading your mind, then Johnny’s is like being pinned down in one place, unable to move. You’re paralyzed, and powerless, lost in the icy blue sea of his eyes, drowning with a hand sticking out above the crest of the surf, reaching for him.

“Why would ye say that? That there’s nothin’ about ye to like? Nothin’ could be farther from the truth.”

“I don’t… there’s not. It’s… I’m your nurse, Johnny. That’s all.” Sweat glosses the small of your back, slicking upwards to cover your spine, and your heart hammers, it beats, beats, beats- so loudly you’re sure the pulse point in your wrist is visible. “Johnny.” His name shakes from your lips, and he relaxes, gentle concern replacing the relentless intensity in his gaze.

“Shhh, hey. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didnae mean to upset ye.” You're still frozen, a statue, and he reaches for you, trying to grab onto your hand. The heat of his skin breaks you from the spell, and you force a robotic, bedside smile onto your face, scooping up your half empty bowl.

"It's okay." You need to get out of this room. Now. The walls feel too close, Johnny feels too close, everything is compounding on top of you, threatening to derail your entire life, ruin your plan. They cannot like you. They cannot care about you. They cannot show interest in you. You can’t let this happen. “I’ve gotta check on some other patients, okay? I’ll swing back your way in a bit.” You promise him, guilt eating you alive about running away, and when he gives you a sad smile, you almost lose your resolve.

“Alright, pretty girl. I’ll see ye later, then.” He murmurs, and you try not to trip over feet during your hasty exit.

Fuck. You’re so fucked.

Simon and Johnny’s house is finally silent.

Penny is down, safely tucked into dream world, her grainy grey-scale image flickering on the video monitor at Simon as he pours two fingers worth of bourbon into a glass.

Poor baby girl. His stomach twists. She put up such a fight tonight, hollering at the top of her lungs, standing up in her crib, working herself into an absolute state. He hates leaving her alone to cry, and on nights like this one, the only way she’ll close her eyes is if she’s being held, snuggled in Johnny's arms, or against Simon's chest.

He’s a sucker, he knows. Doomed from the day she was born, but he can’t help it. Neither of them can. She’s their baby.

So, he doesn’t blame her for being so out of sorts. She always sleeps better when her Da is home. They both do.

His phone vibrates with a text, a short message from Johnny, and he scrolls through it, settling on the couch with his laptop, unopened email from Laswell blinking impatiently.

>She’s jumpy. Tired. Looks like she hasn’t gotten any sleep. Simon frowns.

> She manage to find a pair of panties for work today?

>Unfortunately. He can practically see the pout on Johnny’s lips, can hear the way he probably huffed and puffed when you first came into the room this evening, your hips swishing side to side, pretty smile on your face for him.

>I think I made her upset. Simon pinches the bridge of his nose. Johnny, love. Why can’t you listen? He takes a deep breath, trying to relax the worry that’s creeping up the back of his neck.

Disagreements aren’t for text messages. They’ve learned that the hard way.

>Take it easy for the rest of the night, then. She’s skittish. He shoots off the recommendation, and then pulls his laptop across his knee, clicking open the email from Kate.

Simon, Your girl is a ghost. This kind of wipe work is professional level… are you sure she’s a nurse? I’ve attached everything I could find, but it’s pretty scarce. The name you provided pulled a copy of her NHS nursing license, her taxes, an award she won at work last year, and a COVID vaccination record. No birth certificate, state identification, or public records of any kind, even after a global hand search. Nothing that even proves she exists or is an American except a sealed record from two years ago in the states. It’s not accessible, even for me, which means it could be WITSEC, or a court ordered name change in relation to a domestic violence case. There are 18 states that seal those records to protect the victim, so she could be from anywhere. My gut says it’s probably the latter, which is why she doesn’t exist prior to. You’ll notice on the vaccine record, she marked ‘unhoused’, and I couldn’t find any lease/rental agreements, sale records, or mortgages in her name. I wish I had more for you, but she really is a bit of a puzzle. I’ll keep digging. -K.L.

There’s an unsettling rattle going off in the front of Simon’s skull. It’s a siren, a smattering of warning bells, and he swallows the rest of the bourbon in one go, embracing the burn that slides down the back of his throat.

Who are you, little bunny? And who are you running from?

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader x soap #soap x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader x ghost

1K notes · View notes

wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 3 months

Text

When in L.A

Summary: while on a walk with your boyfriend, the both of you experience a horrible interaction with one of Jacob’s supposed fans.

Warnings: r is referred to being Australian but ofc you can change it :)

Wc: 574

A/n: decided to post a fic before i officially start school again tomorrow 🥹

enews

Liked by jacobelordiupdates, elordifan, and 3,098,261 others

Jacob spotted with his girlfriend y/n out in LA today!! The Aussie couple were playing around with their dogs while Jacob took a few photos of her :)

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user1: oh to be her 😫

user2: she’s so so pretty and seems so sweet ahh

user3: I wonder how they met lol

↘️ user4: pretty sure they knew each other since they were at school in Australia 😂

user5: did not know she was Australian? Omg what?

user6: when is it my turn 🥲

user7: thought he’d be dating someone famous but oop

↘️ user8: didn’t know celebrities had to only date other celebrities?

You and Jacob amble through the streets of Hollywood hills, the chill energy of the neighbourhood surrounding you as you take your dogs Layla and Freddie for a walk.

You’ve been friends since high school back in Australia and only started dating around 2 years ago when you visited LA and caught up with Jacob. And it was only a couple months ago you moved across the world to be with your boyfriend.

You weren’t foreign to the recognition Jacob garners, fans occasionally approach for a quick chat or photo, and for the most part, it’s a positive experience for the both of you.

A young woman, probably in her early 20s, spots Jacob from afar, her eyes widening with recognition. She hurries over, her excitement palpable. The two of you stop as he comes up, “Hi Jacob!” She excitedly greets, her phone ready for a selfie.

Jacob flashes his signature smile, “Hey, how’s it going?” The fan smiles widely, her full attention on your boyfriend as you stand to the side, “Great! Can I take a photo with you please?” She asks, “Yeah, sure.”

The fan, seemingly disregarding your presence, abruptly hands you her phone. “Take the photo for me,” she demands, her tone leaving no room for refusal. Caught off guard by her directness, you manage a surprised “Uh, sure.”

Even you could tell Jacob was caught off guard by her rude behaviour, his eyebrows slightly knitted. You reluctantly take the phone and frame the photo as the woman poses with Jacob, her hand around his waist as he respectfully hovers his hand on her back.

She glances at you with a dismissive look, as if you’re merely an accessory to the moment. “Make sure it’s good,” she commands, refocusing on Jacob as he visibly becomes agitated.

Despite the awkwardness, you snap the photo with a forced smile. The fan snatches her phone without a word of thanks and strides away, disappearing from view.

Jacob, sensing your discomfort, lets out a sigh. “She seemed nice” His voice laced with sarcasm as you chuckle. “They’re not usually like that, trust me.” He remarks, irritation evident in his voice.

Jacob puts a reassuring arm around your shoulders, “Don’t let it get to you. I didn’t even really smile in the photo,” He says with a cheeky grin as you couldn’t help but laugh.

Later that day, Jacob takes to his instagram page that he mostly posted work related things, and shared a photo of the two of you with your dogs, along with a thoughtful caption.

jacobelordi

Liked by yourusername, alexademie, sadiesoverall, jacobelordiupdates, and 8,038,297 others

Hey everyone! I don’t usually post things like this but it needs to be said. I love meeting you all in public, and I’m always grateful for your support. However, let’s remember to be respectful to everyone, including the people I’m with. Shoving phones in someone’s hand, demanding for them to take a photo and being rude isn’t cool. Let’s keep it a positive experience. Much love to you all!! ❤️

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yourusername: 🐶💗

↘️ jacobelordi: love you!

↘️ user1: awe 😭

rachelzegler: so glad you’re bringing this up!!

alexademie: PREACH 🙌

user2: I seriously don’t understand people who call themselves “fans” and do disrespectful shit like this

user3: Is this about the incident that happened today??

↘️ user4: yup. It’s all over Twitter and tiktok rn

↘️ user5: the “fan” is getting slandered so hard rn

user6: wait I’m so confused. What happened?

↘️ user7: basically a “fan” came up to Jacob and Y/n and demanded y/n to take the photo for them and she was just overall rude

user8: so funny how Jacob isn’t even smiling in the photo 😭

↘️ user9: HAHAHAHHA I WANNA SEE THIS PIC

↘️ user10: it’s on TikTok!!

2K notes · View notes

palioom · 3 months

Text

little dove

summary: your first attendance of a huge feast is bothersome, alone and inexperienced as you are. until the eyes of a certain prince won't stop following you.

pairing: oberyn martell x f!reader

word count: 4.5k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; virginity/innocence kink; implied age gap (oberyn is in his early 40s, reader early 20s); fingering; unprotected p in v; creampie; some biting

a/n: another fic from last summer, hope you enjoy! ; headers & dividers by @/saradika-graphics

follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates

• masterlist •

Oberyn had been watching her all night already, his dark eyes following the shape of her wherever she went. Between the bustle of the people, her bright orange glowing dress like the sun, rising and settling as she appeared and disappeared, standing around like she didn’t know what to do with herself.

It was adorable, a smirk gracing his features as he watched her wring her hands, smiling sheepishly when someone approached her.

So innocent.

He could see the nervousness on her face from where he sat, the uncertainty, clearly not used to people approaching her.

He could see the heavy rise and fall of her chest, exposed by the deep cut of her garments.

Taking another sip of his wine, Oberyn stood, deciding now was his time.

The festivities had been going on for a while, and even though he had planned on celebrating with a group of people in his bedchambers later, she had thrown those plans into the wind the second he set sight on her.

Something just intrigued him, maybe it was the innocence she seemed to harbour, maybe it was her beauty.

Whatever it was, he had to know more, waiving away another woman that approached him with a polite smile, then walking over to the mysterious woman.

She looked around nervously, playing with the rings on her hands as people passed by her, some stopping to talk to her.

Feeling incredibly out of place at this feast, her first big one, she didn't quite know what to do. Her parents were somewhere, as were her siblings.

The lords trying to speak to her made her feel uneasy, knowing she was supposed to find a possible suitor at some point, but wanting nothing more than to flee this place.

In fact, she was thinking about just leaving, when she was approached again.

Tall, dark haired and handsome. The Prince of Dorne, Oberyn Martell.

She had seen him at his table, stealing a glance every once in a while and looking away when his dark eyes caught hers.

And now he stood in front of her, flashing her a wide smile.

“My Prince.” She said, curtsying as well as she could, perhaps a little clumsily.

Out of everything she had expected to happen today, she did not expect for him to approach her.

“Do you intend to sulk in the shadows all night, my dove?”

She blinked up at him, once again playing with the rings on her fingers.

“I have not been sulking.” A frown graced her face, a slight tremble in her voice. His presence was intimidating, but different from the other people who had approached her. “I have been observing.”

Oberyn chuckled, taking a small step closer to her, watching her step back just a little in return. So close to her, he could practically feel the nervosity radiating off of her, trying to hold eye contact before they moved away again, looking at anything but him.

“Observing by turning down all lords and ladies who approach you?” He said, watching her fingers stop for just a moment, as if she had been caught, before fiddling with her rings again. “I must admit, I have been watching you for a while - you are the only lady not dancing, not talking to anyone. Just standing in your corner, sometimes moving to follow the servants for a drink or something to eat.”

She stayed quiet. Had she been that noticeable? Just by standing around, hoping for a saving grace?

“I assume this to be your first attendance at a feast this big, am I correct, my dove?”

That nickname.

It made her feel warm, a different kind of warmth than the Dornish weather. Running through her in an unfamiliar fashion, her veins like molten metal, a strange feeling moving up her spine..

“Yes, my Prince.” She said, nodding, but not looking at him.

Oberyn noticed how she became more nervous, smirking at the display in front of him.

“My parents have kept me from them for long, I was only ever allowed to attend small ones.” She continued, sighing. “It is quite overwhelming. I am inexperienced in these kinds of things.”

Her words made him inhale sharply through his nose, still smiling.

If she was inexperienced in this, what else was she inexperienced in?

He had wanted her before, but now the desire for her burned even brighter. Oberyn wanted to show her the things her parents have undoubtedly sheltered her from.

To keep their daughter pure for a potential suitor.

“I understand, my dove. Would you perhaps allow me to accompany you to a place more quiet?”

Usually, he did not beat around the bush when it came to a potential partner for the night.

But it was different with her. If he was blunt he would simply chase her away.

She didn’t look at him, thinking about his question.

All the other men and women that had asked before had made her feel uneasy. Unsure why they wanted to whisk her away, promising a better night someplace else.

But the Prince of Dorne? He made her feel different. A heat and a pressure in her abdomen that she never felt before.

She knew of the rumours, that he took many partners, for whatever they did. Yet, as he stood in front of her, charming smile and good looks, she felt herself drawn to him.

Oberyn reached out, placing a finger under her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “I asked you a question, my dove.”

His fingers on her chin made her still, just looking up at him with her big eyes, lips slightly parted. The touch made that pressure worse, breath hitching in her throat.

“My Prince, I’m-” She stumbled over her words, unsure what to answer.

He just chuckled, a sigh leaving him. “You are quite easily flustered, my dove. Come with me, please.”

Holding out his arm for her to take, he hoped she would. Such an innocent, pretty thing. There was something so endearing about the way she was behaving.

She swallowed hard, looking from his face to his arm, hesitating for a moment. Something drew her to him, and after another moment, she hooked her arm into his with a nervous smile.

Oberyn walked her away from the feast, the noises dying down behind them as they walked the long corridors.

“What did the other lords and ladies ask of you, my dove?”

She sighed, glad to be away from the bustle in the halls, but feeling uncertain now, a throbbing at the apex of her thighs distracting her.

“They wished to take me away for some fun. I’m unsure what they meant exactly.” She didn’t look at him, too nervous to meet his dark, piercing eyes.

It was intimidating, she had never been in the presence of a man other than her father or her brothers alone. She knew how to behave, for the most part, but nonetheless was it a little scary.

Oberyn smirked, looking down to her, seeing how she only stared at the floor or ahead of them.

“You did not know what they were implying?” He asked, a bit amused but genuinely curious. “My little dove, you must be younger than I thought or your parents simply were too careless with your education.”

She remained quiet, her cheeks growing hot.

A sense of shame washed over her, that he thought she was too young. It was as if her friends were with her, giggling and whispering because of something she didn’t understand.

And when she asked, they never explained, finding it too amusing to laugh and belittle her.

There was something she was missing out on, and she hated not knowing what.

“My dove, you do not have to be ashamed.” He said, his other hand coming to gently rest on hers. “If you wish, I could show you.”

He had been right about the assumptions of her being a virgin, too innocent for her own good.

Walking next to her, he felt something else besides the desire for her, a need to protect.

As if he was the only one allowed to show her, that anyone else would simply take advantage of this fact.

Now her eyes met his, brows furrowed.

“Show me?” She echoed his words. “How? What exactly?”

Oberyn just smiled, eyes leaving hers to look at the guards standing by the door of his chambers.

He stopped, not too far away from the door, looking back at her.

“Do you wish for me to show you, my dove?” He asked, brushing back a strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear. “If not, I understand.”

She should be wary. Despite him being the Prince of Dorne, she should think about this. But she was curious, so curious about what this thing was that she had been missing out on.

And there was still that feeling inside of her.

“Yes, my Prince.” She said with a small nod. “I am curious, please.”

He chuckled, his knuckles brushing over her cheek. “Please, call me Oberyn, my dove.”

Moving along, the guards allowed them to enter, the heavy door falling shut behind them. Oberyn let go of her arm, walking over to a table to pour himself some wine, then offering her a cup.

She took it with a small nod, taking in his quarters. They were richly decorated, the bed massive.

Just how she would imagine it, if she had ever spent time on that before meeting him.

Taking a sip of her wine, Oberyn laid a hand on her waist with a gentle smile, pulling her closer to him.

“Most people stare when they first come here.” He said, his hand wandering up and down her side. “Don’t be nervous, little dove.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. That was easier said than done, the heat inside her becoming unbearable at this point.

His hand on her side felt like it was burning her, even through the thin fabric of her gown. Like it was hot coals placed on her.

“Have you ever been kissed, my dove?” He asked suddenly, eyes searching hers. Pulling her just a little closer to him.

She shook her head no, slowly. Heart beating in her throat, he was so close to her.

She could feel the warmth of him, twirling the cup of wine in her hand.

“Would you allow me to?”

There was some hesitation inside her, her hands stilling. Should she allow him to? She wanted to, somehow.

Often had she imagined what it felt like, kissing someone.

Her answer came in the form of a nod, her head barely moving.

Oberyn smiled, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.

“Oh, my little dove.”

Despite his growing desire, he moved gently, bending down to place his lips onto hers. The small gasp that left her made him chuckle, his other hand coming to rest on her hip and pull her hips flush against his.

She stiffened beneath his touch, liking the way his lips felt on hers, surprisingly soft, while his beard and moustache tickled her skin. Holding onto her cup tightly, she closed her eyes, humming when he deepened the kiss and she tried to match his movements, clumsy and inexperienced.

When he parted from her, she chased after him, opening her eyes when she couldn’t. Oberyn laughed at that, staying close to her, his thumb brushing over her cheek.

She looked adorable, the way she greedily breathed in air, lips slightly parted. Still too nervous, too stiff.

“What do you think, my dove?” He asked, leaning closer again so their noses were almost touching. “Would you like for me to show you more? There is quite an array of things I could assist you with.”

His fingers curled into her hip, and when she nodded, he only smiled wider.

“I promise to be gentle, my dove. A beauty such as you needs to be handled with care.”

She didn’t know what he meant, but it didn’t matter, because as soon as he kissed her again, more eager this time, her mind went blank.

His hand briefly left her hip to take the cup from her hands, placing it on the table next to them, before it was back, pulling her against his chest and making her gasp.

Letting his tongue glide against hers at the opportunity, Oberyn heard her muffled moan, relishing in the sweet sound.

The way she tried to kiss him back was delightful, so tender and new, trying to keep up with him.

Slowly he manoeuvred her back towards the bed, having to hold onto her waist as her steps became unsure, stumbling backwards once, her cheeks glowing even hotter.

The throbbing only became more intense, and when they reached the bed and he gently pushed her to sit at the foot of it, she squeezed her thighs together, looking for relief.

There was a wetness now that felt foreign to her.

Oberyn noticed, amused at the display.

“Are you aching, my dove?” He asked, his hands coming to the belt tied around his waist.

Aching.

It did hurt, but in a different way. Not like a bruise or a cut.

She nodded. “A little. My Prince- Oberyn, what- I don’t understand what is happening.”

Poor thing. Her parents had done a horrible job to prepare their daughter.

To leave her in the dark at such an age.

She watched him undo his belt, letting it fall to the floor before motioning for her to move further back to the middle of the bed.

“You’re aroused, my dove. You feel the need for cock.” He explained, shedding his robe, then crawling over her. “Have you seen a cock before, little dove?”

Her mouth went dry as she watched him undress, now only clad in a dark orange tunic and his breeches.

Aroused.

Of course. But was she really aroused by him? In need of his cock?

She nodded, and she could see a flash of surprise grace his features.

“In the bathhouses, yes.” She tried to hold his gaze, now hovering over her and letting his hand glide down her side. “From afar.”

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her cheek, then her neck, hearing the breathy moan spill from her lips, feeling her back arch slightly.

“In the bathhouses…” He repeated in a whisper, still some amusement in his voice. “Yet you don’t know a thing about this… about desire and fucking.”

The word felt vulgar, so close to her ear.

And she felt embarrassed again. That she didn’t know more, that she didn’t understand she was aroused just by him being near her, by him kissing her, by him hovering over her.

“Do you want me to show you, my dove? The thrill of desire?” He asked, still mouthing along her neck, gently, just feeling her as she squirmed, her own hands coming to rest on his broad shoulders. “How to fuck?”

Her breath hitched in her throat when he sucked at the junction of her neck and shoulder, a throaty moan leaving her.

“I- I do not know, Oberyn.” She stammered, fingers digging into his shoulders. The throbbing and the pressure were distracting her, just needing relief. “It hurts, it really hurts.”

His hand moved lower, down her side and to her thigh, gathering her skirts before it dipped below them.

“I can help you, my dove.” His hand wandered between her thighs, finding her dripping already, a soft sound escaping him at the feeling. “Oh, my dove. Wet and gushing like a waterfall and I have barely touched you.”

He sounded pitying almost, his fingers slipping between her folds, raising his head to watch her face when he found her clit.

A hiss left her, looking at him with wide eyes at the foreign feeling. It felt good, strange but good.

“Have you never touched yourself before? Brought yourself to the peak of pleasure?” He asked, drawing slow circles into her clit, with featherlight touches.

She shook her head, trying to keep her eyes open, her legs opening further.

“Never, I didn’t know-”

“You poor thing.” He cooed, kissing her.

When his fingers left her again, she whined in protest, one of her hands reaching out to grab his wrist.

She didn’t even really know what was happening, simply that his touch felt good and that she wanted more.

Needed more.

The burning sensation inside her was so consuming and overwhelming while also hurting her.

“Oberyn, please, continue.” She said, guiding his hand back down but he escaped her grasp.

“Do you know anything about this, my dove? About fucking, the feeling of something stretching you open? Feeling somebody’s naked skin against yours?”

Stretching her open? It sounded painful, she couldn’t imagine how anything could do that, and where.

But she didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to embarrass herself further.

She shook her head again. “No, I don’t.”

He chuckled, his hand coming up to tug one of the straps of her gown down her shoulder, then further down her arm, exposing her breast.

“My little dove, so innocent, so pure.” A sigh left him, watching her face as he touched her breast, just lightly brushing over the hardened nipple. Nothing could have prepared him for just how much her innocence spurred him on. “I will take care of you, just allow me to do so.”

“Please, please, Oberyn.” She whined, desperate. His hand felt good on her, back arching off the bed and into his touch, her head thrown back as she closed her eyes.

This was what she had missed out on, something so good and intense. If only he could touch her again.

Slowly Oberyn undressed her, slipping the garment down her body and kissing each inch of newly uncovered skin. Taking in how she whined and moaned, took in a sharp breath or hissed at the sensation.

She felt exposed, once he sat back and pulled the gown down her legs, his dark eyes raking over her naked form as she laid before him, resisting the urge to cover herself.

So sweet and pure. And he would be the one to ruin her, to taint her beautiful body.

Thank the Gods it was him and not someone else.

“So pretty.” He said, a hand gliding up and down her thigh, the other working open his tunic. “My little dove, all for me to enjoy. I shall show you the heights of pleasure.”

She watched as he shed the garment, exposing his toned torso, the muscles under his skin moving. She was mesmerized, despite having seen this so many times at the bathhouses, when she came to find her siblings or her parents.

His hands moved down to his breeches, opening them just as slowly as he had done with the rest of his clothing.

“It seems as if my little dove has found something she likes.” He chuckled, shedding the last piece of clothing, kneeling between her spread legs, just as exposed as she was.

Cock heavy and throbbing, her eyes were fixed on it.

It was bigger than what she had seen before. But she didn’t know if she should mind that.

“Don’t be scared, my dove.” Oberyn said, moving to hover over her again, one hand on her thigh, his cock brushing against her stomach. “I’ll prepare you to take me.”

“Take me?” She asked, gasping when his hand found that sweet spot again, applying more pressure this time and leaving her breathless.

He hummed against her neck, kissing and sucking on her skin, taking in her sweet sounds.

So adorable, needing to be taught. Not knowing what pleasures awaited her.

His hand moved lower and he felt how she stiffened when one finger pressed against her hole.

“Don’t be scared…” He repeated, slowly pushing a single digit in, groaning when he felt her squeeze around him, her nails digging into his shoulders with a whine.

It felt strange, his thick finger inside of her, moving in and out slowly. Yet it also felt good, her hips rolling on their own, legs opening wider.

“Oberyn-” She moaned, voice breaking, the pressure inside her easing just a little.

His mouth found hers again, continuing to move his finger slowly, his cock twitching at the thought of burying himself inside her soon.

“Tell me how it feels, little dove. You might be ready for another finger soon.”

She whined, concentrating on the foreign feeling, the stretch when he pushed a second finger in.

“It feels good, my Prince- Oberyn.” She breathed, her mind feeling as if it was floating on a cloud, hissing when he scissored his fingers inside of her. “It hurts a little, but it feels good.”

He chuckled, kissing her cheek and down to her jaw, then down her neck again.

“My dove, you feel splendid, gripping my fingers so tight with your sweet cunt.”

Something inside her built, blood hot like molten metal as it rushed through her, building her higher and higher until he took his fingers from her again.

A noise of protest died in her throat, his teeth softly sinking into her shoulder.

He grinned at that, lifting his head to look at her, bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a deep hum.

“Finer than any wine.” Oberyn said, positioning himself so his cock was lined up with her. “My dove, I promise to be gentle. It may sting nonetheless.”

She nodded, drowsy and wanting nothing more than this ache to end. He said his cock would help, and so she wished for nothing more than him to enter her where his fingers just had been.

“Please, help me relieve this ache.” She said, feeling him against her, so much thicker than his fingers.

Oberyn watched as he entered her, grunting at how tight she still was, seeing her eyes squeeze shut and take a sharp breath.

It stung, he hadn’t lied about that, his lips finding hers as he pushed in further, muffling her whimpers while he buried inch after inch inside of her.

All the way until he was fully sheathed inside of her, hips flush against hers, one of his hands coming to rest on her thigh, squeezing it gently.

“It hurts, Oberyn.” She breathed when he broke from her, looking back at him, his lips on her cheek again.

“I know, my dove. You will feel better soon, don’t you worry.”

It was so new, the sensation of being filled, of him inside of her and stretching her out just as he had said.

Overwhelming, someone being so close to her, inside of her, his hot skin against hers, his soft lips on her cheeks.

The pain slowly fading into a need, the throbbing returning, as did the pressure.

Her hips moving on their own, making him chuckle, the sound vibrating against her chest.

“Are you sure you wish to continue already, my dove?” He asked, kissing a spot just below her ear that sent a shiver through her. “I cannot stop myself if we do, your cunt is simply too tight and inviting.”

She nodded, whispering a silent please.

So he slowly pulled back, setting a lazy rhythm of shallow thrusts, her dragged out moans like music to his ears, a little symphony written just for him as he drove back into her over and over again.

“You feel perfect, my dove, what an honour to teach you about the pleasures of the flesh.” Oberyn groaned, his hands grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his hips, making her whimper loudly. “You won’t find a nicer cunt than that of this little virgin dove.”

She let him move, rolling her hips, trying to meet his thrusts, that something inside her building again, becoming stronger this time.

If this really was what she had been missing out on, what she had been ridiculed for, she never wanted it to stop now that she had it.

The feeling pleasant as the ache became less and less present.

Oberyn had to hold back to not just drive into her with his entire force, losing himself in how good she felt, but still wanting this to be something good for her, as much as he desired her.

Already knowing he would seek her out again and again, her innocence far from gone, her sounds so sweet in his ears, her hands so soft as they grabbed at him, trying to find purchase on his body.

“My dove, you are close, I can feel you.” He rasped, his movements becoming sloppier, lips dancing over her skin. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

“Close to what?” She asked, words catching on her breath, feeling something but unsure if it was what he meant.

Gods, she was so adorable.

“Oh, you will see, my dove.”

His hand moved between them, finding her clit.

And with just a few movements, something snapped inside of her so suddenly and with such force that all breath left her, a strangled noise catching in her chest as her veins burned, the pressure in her abdomen released.

She was trembling, holding him against her tightly as he kept moving, thrusts harsher now.

“There you are, my little dove, isn’t that wonderful? The heights, the peak?”

It was a pretty sight, her face contorted in bliss and pleasure but also so shocked by what was happening to her, by these new feelings.

She could only whine, falling silent when she heard him grunt deeply into her ear, stilling above her.

Spilling himself deep inside of her before rolling off of her, not separating but rolling her with him so she came to rest on top of him.

She felt exhausted suddenly, the euphoric feelings still coursing through her veins.

And he felt solid beneath her body, catching his breath just as she did, his hands carding through her hair.

“Now, my dove, how do you feel?” He asked, watching her face as she rested on him. “Are you satisfied?”

If anyone had told her just a few hours ago that she would land in the bed of the Prince of Dorne, she would have laughed at them.

But now, it seemed quite nice.

She nodded. “I feel exhausted, but I am very grateful for what you showed me.”

A smile stretched her lips wide, he liked it. She seemed to be less nervous.

He chuckled, one hand wandering down to smooth over her back. Normally he would be far from done, already planning another round of pleasure.

But she truly seemed too exhausted by this. After all, she hadn’t even known about any of this until now.

Her eyes drifted shut, but she was still awake, listening to his heartbeat.

“Oh, my dove.” He said quietly, kissing the top of her head. “There is so much more to show you, I am far from done with you.”

She felt warm at the idea, curious what else there was to discover. Her eyes felt too heavy to open them again, slowly drifting off into sleep on top of him.

Oberyn simply smiled, sighing deeply.

Yes, he was far from done.

There was so much to learn, so much to discover.

And he couldn’t wait to see her face once he began to truly teach his little dove.

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell smut #oberyn martell x you #game of thrones #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedrostories #my writing

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kiwisbell · 4 months

Text

let it snow [joel miller]

It's cold on the trail. Joel keeps you warm.

12 days of pedro masterlist | my masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags/warnings: an early winter smattering of daddy kink, feel free to picture game!joel or show!joel here, post-outbreak, jackson!joel, christmastime fuzzies, soft old man!joel, self-indulgent age gap (20s/50s), protective!joel, christmas tree hunting, hiking, sex in an apocalypse, snowball play(?), fingering, frostbite does not exist in this universe, thigh fucking, dirty talk, ellie loving dinosaurs, snowball fights, a joel who enjoys what little peace life brings him

word count: ~ 5.3k

read on ao3!

a/n: hi, lovelies - this fic is my contribution to @hellishjoel's 12 days of pedro celebration! everyone please check out the masterlist linked above to check out the other works from all of these amazing authors!! thank you endlessly to my parents @northernbluess and @tieronecrush for beta'ing this fic and reassuring me every step of the way - i love you both to the moon and back. i hope you enjoy and as usual, please mind the tags and please tell me what you think!! ❄️

super cute dividers by @saradika-graphics!!

Fall comes on slow. The leaves begin to bleed orange from the arteries. The air crackles with bright, cold wind that bites and pokes. Debris crunches underfoot and the trees shed their lustrous coats. It’s nothing like the onset of winter in Jackson—the downward crash of an overnight snowstorm that crests too quickly for the residents to prepare.

It's a crystallised, overrefined flurry of soft flakes that gather on thatched rooftops and bury the barren, browning garden beds in the western corner of the village. It’s a nighttime assault of gnashing wind carrying fractals of ice and snow, and before most are awake, Jackson is snowed in.

The children are thrilled. All of them too small to have known anything but the walls of the town, they burst from their homes, half-zipped coats and bright-and-early tummy-rumblings and wondrous impatience, to stick out their tongue and catch the still-falling snowflakes. Parents and caretakers and teachers straggle, still pulling on their own boots and coats, in the effort to stay close to their charges. Snowballs are packed together and hurled from behind fortified walls of snow; passers-by are pulled unwittingly into the two-sided, relentless barrage; and the shrieks and cries crackling into the dead white air are born from the watery womb of promise, not terror.

There’s some joy yet to be found in this world.

He isn’t participating in the frozen-water war, but he’s watching from the margins, leaning against the wall of the schoolhouse with his arms folded over his chest and his eyes hawklike as he observes your every move.

A group of young girls has inducted you into the battle and now you’re hiding with one of them behind a wall, packing a tight ball of snow in your hands, barely protected by your threadbare gloves. He can see the grip of the cold on your body, the way your breath circles above your head, a silvery halo. He can see the slight shivers that start in your lower spine and tremble their way up to the back of your neck, and he can see the phantom imprint of his hand resting there, warming your nape, curling his callused fingers around your brain stem and guiding you the way he liked. He can see your gentle touch not only in your hands but in your smile, in the soft application of snow to the top of the wall as it begins to melt, in the sweet curl of your mouth as you help a child who has fallen to their feet.

Swiping an accumulation of snow from the child’s nose with your thumb, you mouth some words he cannot see. The child sniffs happily and wraps their arms around their mother’s leg.

You sneak away from the barrage of snowballs and blow some warm air into your cupped hands. He shifts off the wall and begins to prowl toward you.

When he’s close enough, when no one is around nor awake enough to notice, pulls you into the alley between the schoolhouse and the theatre.

His mouth captures your surprised exhale, stealing the visible puff of warm air for himself, swallowing it down as he pries you open for him. His hand rediscovers the slow, warm pleasure of its resting place on the back of your neck, gently steering you, unkindly pinning your body to the wall.

He feels the itch of your gloves as you cup his face, and his other hand lifts to circle around both of your wrists, idly pressing them beneath his heavy coat, against his heart. It thuds strongly, pouring its rhythm into the grooves of your palms.

He crowds you, making you small, his desire for this closeness prodding your inner thigh. You go oh-so easily, the gruff sounds he spills into your mouth tapping, chiselling, knocking down each vertebrae. Carefully, with the slide of his warm, wet tongue along yours and the greedy assault of his mouth, he shapes you for himself and turns you into the pliant little thing he needs you to be.

You moan softly into his mouth, and his answering groan is something rabid. Your spine curves to him, gravitational pull, wooden slats of the building at your back tugging the fabric of your coat. He will kiss you until you’re breathless and preening under his touch because it’s what he always does. He will inculcate you with the knowledge that you’re for his eyes only.

When he pulls away, he watches you chase his mouth with lidded eyes and kiss-bruised lips, and he smirks. His hand moves to your head, gently smoothing down your crown to your jaw, the way one tenderly pets a kitten.

“Got you somethin’.”

You raise your brows. “You did?”

“Mhm.” He nudges his nose against yours and relishes the smile you give him—eyes crinkling at the corners, irises reflecting glistening sky. “Open your mouth for me first. Go on, now.”

You obey, letting your tongue loll out, more from habit than anything. Still, he’s pleased, unfurling the hastily-wrapped paper package in his pocket and placing the small square of chocolate on your tongue.

You close your mouth with the help of his hand on your jaw, and the gentle snap of the chocolate bleeds the melting centre down your throat, disseminating the oaky flavour on your tastebuds.

“Y’like it?”

His voice is a carving knife. You're split down the middle by his simple show of affection, spilling out into his arms, wrists still clasped in one of his big hands.

“It’s good,” you tell him. “I’ve never…”

His smile digs a thumb into your open wound. “I know. Took it from the kitchen.”

You lick your lips and swallow the rest of the melted chocolate. Joel watches the action from the moment your tongue darts out to the moment it retreats. “Maria will have your ass.”

“Hmm, Maria can tell me off much as she wants. Wanted to give you somethin' sweet.” He presses in closer, hands dropping to your hips, kneading the pad of his thumbs over your hips. You're wearing old jeans whose waistband is fraying. “What do you say?”

This is the fun part of the game you play. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, teasing, begging entrance even though he knows there isn't a world in which you would deny him. You part your lips and take his thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue and cleaning off the taste of leather that still lingers on his skin.

“Thank you.”

He strokes your jaw with his thumb. “You wanna know what else?”

You're already leaning into his palm as he cradles your cheek, and he’s so proud of the volcanic thaw in your eyes. “What else?”

Joel reaches back into his coat pocket and places something small in your palms. It’s a smooth wooden figurine that smells faintly of sawdust and is carved in the perfect likeness of your home, which sits across the street from his.

“‘s almost Christmas,” he says, suddenly so unsure of himself as he watches you turn the little shack over in your hands. “Thought you might like—”

But you're leaping onto him like a little monkey, your mouth crashing against his. It’s all lips and teeth and tongue and he can taste the chocolate he placed there just moments ago. The chimney of your miniature home prods his chest as you hold the figure close, tucking it safely between your bodies.

“Easy, baby girl,” he says with a low laugh, not-quite pulling away, letting you lick into his mouth like a cat after milk. The scratch of his beard will leave patches on your chin and everyone will see them. He grins, tilting your head up and soothing the worried skin with soft kisses.

“I love it,” you tell him, sighing into his body, “so much. I love it, Joel.”

“Good.” He nudges his nose against your temple. “Take good care of it, now.”

You nod, scratching at the too-long hair curling slightly at the nape of his neck. “How do you know that it's almost Christmas?” you ask him after a moment.

“Took a guess,” he says, nipping your earlobe. “Y’know, the big tree they put up in the middle of town helps.”

You playfully tug his hair. “Asshole.”

“So goddamn mouthy. Gettin’ spoiled.”

“You're the one spoiling me,” you purr, mouthing wetly along his jaw.

Joel chuckles. “Yeah. Guess I am.”

“You know”—your voice takes on a musical lilt—“I don't have my Christmas tree yet.”

Joel lifts his brows. “You want a Christmas tree?”

You lift one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t really remember the holidays.”

The watery shimmer under your irises reminds Joel just how much more life he's lived. You were young when the outbreak started, both parents lost to the virus before the first week was out. You’d hid under your bed for three days straight before FEDRA found you.

They’d taken you, underfed and dehydrated, to the Colorado QZ, where you spend most of your adolescence until it was bombed by Fireflies. You'd managed to sneak away before they could round you up like FEDRA had. You’d travelled with one group to the next before Jackson welcomed you.

There's a scar on your throat, just below your jaw on the right side, and another at the nape of your neck. You've been held at knifepoint, you told him in the early days of knowing one another, by the very same people who'd taken you in as one of their own. They’d offered you up as trade for some deer meat. Joel traces the mark and feels his throat constrict.

The kind of life you’d led before Jackson… He’ll make sure you never have to run again.

“Let’s get you one,” he says. “Tomorrow.”

You pull away from him to meet his eye. “Joel…”

“Tommy’s got a saw behind the bar. I can take down a tree. We’ll bring it back ‘n’ put it up in your place.”

The grin creeps up at the corner of your mouth. “You're going soft, Miller.”

Joel just crowds you back against the wall and slants his mouth over yours. He has no problem going soft when he can feel the wooden edges of his gift to you prodding the flesh of his chest. Let it pierce him.

Joel has few rules he's willing to push back on. At his age, he's lost some of his jagged edges, compromising on more. When he's got you like this, tucked into his side, wearing only his shirt, he remembers exactly why he enforces these few rules.

The light is soft in the winter; it doesn't quite penetrate his eastern-facing window the way the summer sun does. He blinks awake, feeling you shift next to him, your nose buried in his throat. Your arms are wrapped tight around his middle, one leg hoisted over his torso.

“C’mon, baby,” he grunts, throwing his arm over his eyes. “Gotta get up.”

He can feel your sleepy pout against his neck. “Mph.”

“Yeah, I know.” Joel chuckles, slumping back into the mattress. You shift so you're on top of him, your thighs bracketing his hips. Sitting up, you explore his bare chest with your soft hands, migrating down the length of his torso and his softening belly. He grabs your hips and soothes himself awake by rubbing his hands up and down your sides. The fabric of his shirt draped over your body shifts under his palms.

“I’m patrolling with Tad,” you tell him, “so we’ll have to put up the tree when I get back.”

“No, you're not.”

You cock your head. “Tommy told me—”

“Tommy doesn't know what the hell he's talkin’ about,” says Joel. “You and I get the day off. And I”—he pulls you down toward him and secures his hand at the back of your neck—“know a spot.”

Your answering hum is playful. “You know a spot. I had a couple boyfriends back in the QZ who knew a spot, too, Miller.”

“I ain't your old boyfriends,” he says with a faint growl, landing a light smack on your ass. “There’s a good trail west of here. Some trees what would look nice all done up.”

You beam down at him. Your hair is somewhat tousled from sleep and the fuzzy light haloes your head. “You aren't worried about raiders?”

“Don't think I can keep you safe?” He caresses your bare thighs, his cock interested in the warmth of you on his lap.

Your mouth fits over his, fingers threading through his hair, and Joel settles into the steady rhythm of your heartbeat fluttering against his own chest.

“I think,” you whisper, “that we're already late. Let's go get a Christmas tree.”

Half an hour later, he’s still yawning on his way to the stables and wishing he was in the warmth of his bed instead of out here in the biting cold. Joel runs his gloved palms together and fixes his rifle over his shoulder.

You, of course, are fresh-faced and early, securing the saddle over your chestnut mare Princess. Joel pats her snout and inspects your pack where it hangs on the hook nearby.

“Forgot your bandages again.”

You hum and it's music. “You always have extra. Ready to go?”

“Sure you’re not waiting for Tad?”

You gently pat your horse’s back. “Tad is terrified of you, so he's terrified of me. You're ruining my reputation, Miller.”

“That so?” Joel sidles up next to you, pushing your pack into your arms. “You got a complaint you wanna file?”

“None so far,” you say, biting down on your grin, “but there's always time. Better be careful with me.”

“I’m always careful,” Joel says into your ear. “Now go on. We got ground to cover.”

There is a method to Joel Miller’s madness. Tommy knows damn well he needs to pick his battles. But Joel will always win when it comes to you. That is where he simply does not compromise.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, Tommy.”

His brother’s hands fly up, palms out, already pleading his case. “Joel, listen to me—”

Joel slaps the book against Tommy’s chest. “I don't need to hear your goddamn excuses. She doesn't go with anyone but me.”

“Listen,” says Tommy, tossing the worn leather agenda aside. “We've got people out sick, and they ain't about to go out in this cold. And you need to be with Flynn, ‘cause Christ knows he ain't trained up enough to handle anything up in those woods.”

Joel scoffs. “And Tad’s trained up enough to go with her? Don't give me that shit, Tommy. She goes with me.”

“Joel—”

“We clear?” He squares up to his brother, folding his arms over his chest.

Tommy rolls his eyes at Joel’s posturing but concedes nonetheless. “Fine. I’ll take Flynn.”

“Good.” Joel turns to leave for the stables. He’s stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“She’s a strong girl,” says Tommy, “and you can't play guard dog forever.”

The snow has settled a bit in the week since the first fall. It's crystallised and hardened underfoot, packed tightly. Icicles dangle from the naked trees on the outskirts of the woods, and your breath mists. The cold penetrates your jeans and the slivers of exposed wrists where your gloves don't quite meet your coat sleeves. Hugging Joel around the middle, your body heat shudders through him.

“Snow like this is always a goddamn problem,” he mutters.

“Covers tracks,” you say.

“That's right. You do listen.”

“Well, when you give me chocolate…”

Joel veers Princess north and brings your gloved palms to his mouth so he can breathe warm air into them. You sigh your thanks, bumping your forehead into his back before returning to your vigilance as lookout. Once you're well out of the way of the city walls, it's easier to get wrapped up in the blistering wind. You bring your bandanna up over your nose and watch Joel do the same as you pass the river. It’s frozen over, not blue but a sheet of miserable white. You mourn the loss of colour as the wind nips at your skin.

“We’ll have more cover when we break through the trees,” says Joel. “Shuffle closer to me.”

You do, sliding your hips forward. Princess’s reins around one fist, he covers your hands with his other, squeezing you intermittently. His body heat helps you settle comfortably into him.

“What was your first Christmas like with Sarah?”

Joel chuckles. “She was one hell of a rowdy kid. Had to fish her out of the tree one time—only turned my back for a goddamn second.”

You smile fondly. “Thought you were gonna have to drag Ellie kicking and screaming out of that snowball fight the other day. She was a minute away from nailing your brother in the face.”

“Hmph. Asshole probably deserved it,” says Joel. “Sarah’d never hurt a fly. She saved spiders; threw ‘em outside instead of killin’ ‘em. But she’d get along with Ellie. Sometimes I look at her and see Sarah.” Joel’s quiet for a moment, guiding Princess past the tree line where the wind begins to penetrate in bursts rather than a constant stream of cold. “Do you think that's wrong?”

You frown. “No. I don't think so. Sometimes, I talk to kids in town that remind me of you. They’ll have a nose or eyes that make me think of you, and I’ll think it’s so nice that we’re all still here, still kicking. You know? There are parts of Sarah in Ellie and there are parts of that tree over there in me. When we love someone, we see them everywhere.”

Joel brings Princess to a halt about a half-mile into the woods; a trail veers off to the east next to you. He loops her reins around the branch of a tree and helps you off the horse. “Y’know,” he says, “you're too damn smart for your own good.”

“You’ll do well to remember that, Miller.” You shove your bandanna back down so it lies limp around your neck. “Now show me this spot.”

Joel failed to warn you that it involved a hike. An honest-to-fuck hike. You and your boots are used to traversing long distances, but you hadn't particularly prepared to trek through the frozen woods in December on a few hours’ sleep, a couple hours’ orgasm, and a hastily-chugged cup of coffee. Not had you prepared for an uphill hike in the brutal cold just to find a fucking Christmas tree.

If you didn't like him so damn much, you know for a fact you'd happily throttle your Joel.

Your Joel, who can't seem to find a tree that's good enough for you. Too tall, he'll say about one, won't fit inside your place. Too skinny, he’ll say about another, you could barely string lights on that.

Your lungs are burning cold. Every breath you inhale feels like swallowing needles. Your chest heaves and your cheeks are numb and you’re drawing up what's left of your resolve to give him a piece of your mind.

“Nah, not this one,” he’s saying, knocking his fist against the trunk of another tree. “It’s practically hollow. Would crumble the second we—”

“Joel, if you could find a tree you do like so we can head back and I can stop freezing to death, that would be so, so appreciated.”

Your teeth chatter the whole time, but you get your message across. Joel stops, his hand splayed against another tree, a smaller one with a decent-sized middle, and turns to face you.

“You cold, baby?”

It's not an innocent question. Around you, the wind whips at the branches of the tallest trees and crackles through the air. But Joel’s voice, slow and gravel-thick, permeates the breeze. It bites deeper, to the gums, latched in your skin. It’s warm.

No—it's hot.

Joel’s hand drops from the tree. His foot crunches the snow under his boot as he takes a step toward you.

Wordlessly, you nod.

“You had lots to say before, baby girl. Thought you wanted your Christmas tree.”

You do. Fuck, you want to go home. You want to curl up in his bed with another cup of coffee and warm yourself up with his body. But Joel is staring at you, eyes hard, rubbing his gloved hand over his mouth, and the alternative now feels much more tempting. “Uh-huh.”

“I think you should see for yourself,” he says, “whether or not you want this one. Go on.”

He's playing some game. He’s ringed with silvery light, a soft and hazy glow backlighting his longer hair, threaded with grey, his body so broad, solid, strong—

There’s none of your Joel in the way he stands. This is the Joel who’s used to following orders. This is the Joel he never lets you truly see: the man who has seen so many more years, seen so much more of the world.

You pass him, hiking farther up the trail, to inspect the tree. It is decent; just taller than you, but thick enough to stay upright, plush with needles. A gentle tug at your scalp, a puff of warm air on your cheek, the dizzying weight of him at your back. He’s twirling a lock of your hair between two gloved fingers.

“You like it?” he says gruffly, his mouth mere inches from your ear. The telltale tingling begins in your core and you swallow hard.

“Joel, I didn’t mean to—”

“Shhh. None of that. I wasn’t thinkin’, sweetheart.” He nips at your earlobe, hands trailing down your body, underneath your heavy coat, sitting warmly on your hips. “Gotta keep my girl nice ‘n’ warm. Got all caught up in my own head, thinkin’ like a carpenter. Let me make it up?”

He loves so selflessly that it can feel bizarrely like greed.

Sometimes, you forget that he’s so much older. That he lived his own way of living for a long time before you came along, that he knows this planet like that back of his hand, that you can’t even begin to name a country or a food or a song that FEDRA didn’t teach you. That you’ve only just begun to experience the terror and the pain that’s engulfed this world for so long.

Joel Miller’s lived a long life. He’s choosing to spend these moments with you, in the cold, dead woods, picking out a Christmas tree. For as long as he’s been waking up with you, his girl, he’s wanted you longer. He’s tired. He’s old. But he’s finally getting to choose.

He’d like to think he deserves a bit of choice after all this time. So, again, he comes back to you, like the last time and the last, spreading his fingers over your body and cupping you, molten gold, in his hands.

Settle down, his brother told him a few years back. You deserve this, Joel. To just… settle down, if you can ever find a way.

You’re his way. He intends to make it clear.

“Need to hear you say yes, baby,” he says, shifting your hair aside, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck where it’s warm and quiet and smells of the coffee he always makes you.

“Yes,” you whisper, reaching back to fix your hand at the nape of his neck and glue him to you. “Please. Please, Joel.”

He grins, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your throat, the fluttering veins below your jaw. He steals every one of your heartbeats for himself.

“All right,” he says. “We’ll get this one.”

Eyes lidded, you watch over your shoulder as Joel fiddles with the button of your jeans and yanks down your panties with them, now hanging limply off your knees.

“Joel!” you gasp. The cold air bites your thighs, your ass, your poor, slick pussy, as he unwraps his present. Playfully squeezing your ass, he grinds his clothed front against you.

“Yeah, baby?” he mumbles, the smug bastard, pinning you to the tree by his strong hips, your fingers splayed on the trunk. Above you, pine needles flutter down to the ground around you, but the trunk doesn't budge.

It is a good tree.

“‘m cold,” you manage, putty in his hands, under the sweet, slow kisses he's pressing to your jaw.

Your petulant whine rivals the pitch of the wind off the mountain trail. The whistling air shrieks. The hard weight at your back absconds with the warmth it brought you, and he's bending to one knee, packing a not-quite spherical ball of snow in his gloves.

“You’re cold?” It doesn't sound like a question and you're nodding anyway, your cheek scraping the bark of the fir tree. It smells of terpenes and the shingles of bark bleed resin.

“I’m so cold, Daddy.”

He stands, and a huge glove is caging your ribs, a bearded cheek nuzzling your temple. “Let’s see, baby girl. Open wide.”

He brings his other hand between your exposed thighs and, lips prying at the corner of your mouth, cups the feebly-formed snowball against your pussy.

“Daddy,” you gasp, writhing away and grinding into his hand all the same, your mouth open in a long, pitiful cry. Your silvery breath ascends in a long-limbed dance with his own.

The snow melts in moments, rubbed firm into the scorching heat of your body, but you feel the biting cold against your clit as if it were pulled between a set of pearly teeth.

“See?” There’s a cruel tone of mocking in it and you preen like it’s a sweet lullaby. “Nice ‘n’ warm.”

He mouths at the crook of your neck, hot and wet, tongue dipping into the junction between your ear and your jaw, where it’s soft and does not hurt when he bites down.

The once-packed snow, now tepid and formless, drips down your thighs, and the air is so cold it begins to freeze again. Joel hears your helpless moan and takes pity, unbuckling his own jeans just enough to pull out his cock.

But he doesn't slot himself at your needy hole and push slowly inside you the way he did last night. No—he guides the leaking head between your thighs and closes your legs around him, the length of him flush to your cunt.

“Ohhhh, fuck.” You shiver, dropping your forehead against the tree, as Joel lubricates his cock with the melted water of the snowball and begins to fuck himself between the cushions of your thighs. “Joel… oh my God, Daddy—”

He grunts, taking it slow, the wet slide of his cock electrifying, cold and warm all at once, his body caging yours against the tree. With every thrust, the head of his cock catches on your clit, and he gasps in your ear, nibbling your exposed skin. You grasp at his hair, the hand that presses down on your belly, fixing him to you.

“That's it, baby. Goddamn, you feel so good. So fuckin’ soft, just for me, all for Daddy, right, baby girl?”

“Yes, yes! I’m yours, all yours, please…” Your thighs twitch when his cock drags along your clit once more, and it's so good—but it's not enough.

“I know,” groans Joel, lowering your joined hands to your clit and rubbing slow, aching circles over your slick pearl. A strained moan rumbles in your chest and your head grows heavy, falling back on his shoulder. The pleasure, white-hot and insistent, makes you forget all about the cold air savagely biting off chunks of your skin. It's all Joel. “I know, baby girl. That feel good?”

“Mmmm,” you manage, breathless and panting, your exhales swirling up into the air and disappearing in the trees. He keeps your hands joined, working in tandem to pleasure your needy clit. “Mhm, so good. Just like that.”

Joel nods into the crook of your neck, keeping the pressure steady on your clit as he continues to get himself off between your legs. “My pretty girl, so cold,” he rasps, “so needy. Y’know I’d get you anything you wanted.”

You nod vigorously, wetting his cock with your arousal, gloved fingers slick on your pussy. The rough grind of the leather closes an electrical circuit up and down your body. Joel Miller has always known how to make you feel safe, cared-for—sensations you'd never known before Jackson. With him, you're glutted, satiated. With you, he’s begun his long winter’s task of settling down.

“Let go for me, baby,” he says, taking your jaw between his teeth as he feels his stomach tighten, his balls pulling up. “C’mon, baby girl, let me feel it. Get yourself all warm with me.”

He rubs your clit faster until you're seizing, core tensing, your mouth open in a long, low cry that echoes down the trail. Joel talks you through it, good girl, that’s it, I know it’s a lot, honey, just let go, and your fingers flex, trapped in his, as you come until your legs are trembling.

Joel hums like he's satisfied, his hips pummeling into your backside in stuttering thrusts that indicate he's coming, too. “You gonna let me come, baby girl?” he says, baring his teeth against your cheek. “Gonna forgive me?”

“Yesyesyes! Fuck, you’re so good. Please come for me, Daddy, please!”

“Fuck, baby, I will. I will.” And he does—stuffing his cock between your thighs, it begins to pulse beneath your cunt, spilling hot cum all over your legs, your pussy, the tree he’s pinned you against. All the while, he holds you tight, his mouth greedy on you, words coaxed into your ears that aren't meant for another soul.

“You’re mine. All fuckin’ mine.” He's rambling as he comes down, spurts of cum still dribbling from his cock down your thighs. “Goddamn perfect.”

You shiver as the cold begins to seep back in through your skin, even as Joel helps pull your jeans back up over your ass. It's a bit uncomfortable, feeling the slide of his cum on your legs underneath the denim, but you smile anyway, letting him guide you to face him, your foreheads pressing together.

“I like this one,” you tell him. Joel laughs, bringing your mouth to his for another kiss.

“Dude, where the fuck did you get this?”

You look over your shoulder at Ellie, who inspects your miniature figurine, now with a home just inside your foyer.

“Joel gave it to me,” you tell her.

“Whooooa. You think he could make me a dinosaur?”

You turn to Joel, who's nursing some bourbon and hiding a smile in the rim of the glass. “That's a great question, Ellie. What do you think, Joel?”

“C’mon, man, when do I ever ask you for anything?”

Joel chokes into his glass. “Every goddamn day of your life, Ellie.”

“Okay, well, just think about how cool it would be to have a dinosaur. It’s basically the real thing.”

Joel shakes his head. “Yeah, okay. Maybe next year.”

“Ugh. Fine. But don't think I’m not gonna remember.”

Idly rubbing his back, you lean into him and turn your head toward the tree. It sits tall and proud in the corner, strung with a couple coloured lights Maria had found for you, hung with baubles that some of the schoolchildren had been thrilled to make. It's a bit bare in spots, haphazardly decorated, prickly to the touch.

“You like it?” asks Joel, nudging his nose against your temple.

“It's perfect.”

He grins into your cheek. “You think she’ll like the dinosaur?”

Your eyes fall to the smattering of gifts under the tree, tossed into spare crates and bags.

“Ellie, why don't you open first?”

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